


Seven Heavenly Virtues

by Strixes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Concerned Sam, Dark Dean Winchester, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dean Bears The Mark of Cain, Dean Lies, Demon Deals, Demon Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, Drug-Induced Sex, Drugged Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gaslighting, Human Castiel, Hurt Castiel, Hurt No Comfort, Impala Sex, Kissing, M/M, Manipulation, Manipulative Dean, Manipulative Relationship, Mark of Cain, Mind Games, No Major Character Death, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Happy, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Sam Winchester, Psychological Torture, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Rough Sex, Self-Sacrificing Castiel, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Violence, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicidal Thoughts, Supportive Sam, Unhappy Ending, Verbal Abuse, Victim Blaming, Violent Sex, Worried Sam, because the best horror stories are the ones where everyone lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 20:50:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 108,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3623853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strixes/pseuds/Strixes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Mark of Cain turns Dean into a demon once more. Dean is adamant that this time he's found a way to keep the mark under control but it's clear to Castiel that Dean needs help if he's going to fight the mark's influence until they can find a way to get rid of it. More than anything Castiel wants to save him, but if anyone needs to be saved it's Castiel as he tries to navigate where Dean ends and the Mark of Cain begins.</p><p> </p><p>(this is a dark fic from the get go. Read the tags and beware)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chastity

**Author's Note:**

> Canon divergent obviously. Picks up some time after they've cured Dean. Metatron's automatic download of human culture into Castiel did not happen because I said so. In light of recent events (the season 10 finale) this is also disregarding all the bizarre events and retconning that went on in the later half of season 10 because I think they were ridiculous and I refuse to acknowledge them as existing.
> 
> ***Yo, read this before you start and decide if this is the fic for you***
> 
> This is a dark fic.
> 
> Dean is a goddamned demon in this fic. Demons are not nice. To quote the show "they just want death and destruction for its own sake". In this fic Dean is exceedingly manipulative and will be doing those not nice things to Castiel. I think the archive warnings and myriad of tags should be obvious for what I mean by "not nice things" so **read the archive warnings and tags** before you launch into this. This is a dark fic.
> 
> Castiel's encounter with April the Reaper is mentioned, if that bothers you this isn't the fic for you (but honestly if that bothers you and you still clicked on this despite the tags, what is going on?). It is mentioned both as a negative traumatic experience and as a poor attempt to "lighten the mood". Dean also mentions it several times both in an understanding light and as emotional ammunition, though even when Dean is being "understanding" Dean is still a demon manipulating the people around him, so take Dean's understanding behaviour with a grain of salt.
> 
> But seriously demon Dean is pro at blaming the victim, getting the victim to think they're the one at fault and the "real" abuser in the situation, and shifting the situation to make it seem like he's the victim. He lies. _All the time._ He is a lying liar who lies to get what he wants because he's a demon. 
> 
> In this fic Castiel can easily be described as an abused spouse in denial about what is going on for much of the time. He will rationalize and excuse Dean's behaviour. Repeatedly. Often. He does recognize that the situation is not exactly optimal but _it's Dean_ , so it can't be _that_ bad. But it is. It is that bad. Dean is a demon and it is _that_ bad. 
> 
> There is no major character death but this does not have a happily ever after ending. It is not a happy fic. Reader beware.
> 
> This is a dark fic.

_I understood, that to this torment sad the carnal sinners are condemn’d, in whom reason by lust is sway’d._

_***_

His stolen grace had been killing him for months - a flash of lightening for an angel - but it seemed to drag on for decades. The slow decline had put more strain on him than consuming the souls of Purgatory. He was a shadow of his original self by the time he was willing to risk tearing out the stolen grace on the hope he'd be human after and not dead. He didn't think God would bring him back this time.

He picked an empty place far away from humans and their electrical grid in case tearing his grace out caused an explosion. He was prepared this time. He had a car - stolen like his grace - and supplies. Food, water, clothing, money; all the things that humans needed just in case this last ditch effort worked.

He parked the car at the end of a road that had fallen into disuse and did the only thing he had left to do before he tore out the stolen grace. He took his phone out and called one of the few people who would care if he died.

The phone rang but no one picked up. He sighed. He was about to try a different number when his phone rang. He couldn't help the soft smile when he saw the number flash on the screen. He answered, "Dean."

"Cas. Where the hell have you been? We've been up to our eyes in demons. You could show up—"

"Dean, I'm dying." Castiel said. He could hear the sharp inhale of breath from the other end. Neither of them said anything. It was strange, they were miles apart but it felt like Dean was right there. He could hear when Dean started breathing again.

"So what are we going to do about it?"

That soft smile returned. Of course that was what Dean would say. Dean, one of those impossible Winchesters that should have died - had died - hundreds of times over wouldn't take death as a statement of finality.

" _We_ aren't going to do anything. I'm going to tear out the grace I've stolen." Castiel said. He could hear Dean make a noise deep in his throat; a wordless argument but Castiel knew what Dean was thinking. "I'm not trying to kill myself, Dean."

"You sure? I didn't forget what you said about you seeing what you had done to Heaven"

"I'm sure. I'm trying to live. Buy myself more time." Castiel explained. He had thought it through. This was the best way. His last chance. "We can't bargain with Metatron for my grace and this stolen grace will kill me long before we find another way to get it back. If I tear it out I _should_ be human."

"And then we got a few decades instead of...?"

"A few days." Castiel said. He had left it until the last possible moment, hoping he'd find some other way. "Maybe less."

"Fuck. You really know how to cut it close. Where are you?"

"Yellowstone National Park." Castiel said. Dean actually laughed at that. He smiled again. It had been some time since he had heard Dean laugh.

"Why the hell are you tearing your grace out in Yellowstone National Park?"

Castiel was about to explain about the remoteness of the location and the possibility of causing severe damage to the surrounding area if things went badly but Dean made a dismissive noise and Castiel could almost see him shaking his head.

"Never mind. Tell me where exactly and I'll start coming."

"You don't have to. I have a car." Castiel said.

"Cas, I'm not leaving you out there on your own again."

Out of sheer stubbornness he argued that he could drive himself to the bunker but Dean was insistent. He was going to come get him. They settled on meeting each other halfway. Whoever reached the town first would text the other the address of a motel and a room number. He told Dean where he was as a precaution. If he didn't phone in a few hours Dean would bypass the motel and come straight to him— or his body. Then the conversation was over.

"I...you...good luck, buddy."

"Thank you, Dean. I'll phone back soon. It shouldn't take long." Castiel said. Dean said another goodbye. He said another one too hoping it conveyed everything he meant. Then he hung up and wondered if that was the last time he'd ever talk to Dean.

He sat still for a few moments contemplating how, out of all the angels, he was the most kaleidoscopic of his brothers. He had existed in an almost constant state of change these past few years and here he was preparing to change again.

He got out of the car and went to the trunk. He took off his coat and jacket and folded them up. He set them down in the trunk. He unbuttoned his shirt and set it down with them. He took out the shirt and heavy sweater he had bought and pulled them on. He had been cold the first time he woke up as a human. He wasn't sure if it was simply the temperature or the shock of what had happened. A heavy sweater seemed prudent either way.

He unbuckled his belt and set it aside. He slid his feet out of his shoes and slipped his pants off. He took out the jeans and shoes he had picked based upon comfort. Walking in dress shoes for days as a human, it had turned out, was highly uncomfortable. He pulled the jeans on and tied up the new shoes. He picked up the belt and fed it through the belt loops. He was either wearing clothes for his second attempt at being human or funeral attire.

He walked a short distance from the car aiming for a sapling. When he tore out the stolen grace it would have to go somewhere. He hoped the tree he picked would do the memory of the brother he had killed for his grace justice.

He stopped and stood over the sapling. He was about to start when it occurred to him that it was rather uncomfortable as an angel to reach inside himself but the experience was far more traumatic as a human. He sat down, then on second thought, laid down.

He didn't bother to say a final prayer. Who would listen?

He reached into his chest and pulled.

He woke up to a setting sun and the sound of leaves rustling in the wind. He opened his eyes and felt blind as he stared up at the leaves of the sapling grown tall with the essence of pure creation. He sat up and leaned against the tree. He closed his eyes and listened to see if anyone had sensed him tearing his grace out and thought they might enact revenge while he was helpless.

He didn't hear anything. His eyebrows furrowed. He should be able to, even without his grace. Anna had been able to hear their brothers without her grace and he'd been able to last time. He sat and listened but all he could hear was the world around him.

As darkness fell he gave up on trying to hear his brothers. He pulled himself upright, holding onto the tree, then hobbled to the car. He opened the trunk and took out the blanket, pillow, food, and water then closed the trunk. He opened the back door and tossed them in then went to the front to get his phone. He closed the driver's door and got in the back. He closed the back door. They were such small human things. Close the door, open the door. No grace to do it for him.

He pulled the blanket around himself and opened up a water bottle. He drank half of it before he looked at his phone.

He had three text messages from Dean.

_How'd it go?_

_Cas?_

_You better be alive._

He smiled to himself. He phoned Dean. He didn't even manage to say hello before Dean was talking.

"You alright? Did everything work out? You're...you know...human? Again."

Castiel breathed deeply in relief. "Yes. It worked fine. I'm a little tired but I'm alright. I'm going to sleep in the car tonight. I'll get on the road tomorrow. I don't think I should drive right now."

"Told you I should just come straight there."

"I'll be fine, Dean." Castiel said. He would be. He was much better off this time. He had food and clothing. Transportation. Warmth. Shelter. He was prepared this time for a world that was harsh to humans. "I just need to rest for a bit."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure." Castiel said quietly. It was draining just to talk. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dean."

"Get some rest, Cas."

Dean hung up. Castiel set the phone down on the floor. He ate. He drank the rest of the water. He arranged the pillow and blanket to his liking and slept. It was all very human. He wasn't bad at doing human things, he was bad at making human choices.

He woke up at noon with a stiff back and a sore neck. He drank some water and ate a granola bar. Dean had already texted him the name of a motel and the room number. He texted Dean back quickly to say he would be off soon. He got out of the car, relieved himself in the woods, then got back in the car and headed for the main road. It wasn't that long of a drive, he could make it in half a day.

Around 2pm Dean phoned and asked him what he'd want to eat when he got there. Castiel didn't care as long as it was warm. Dean had laughed - Castiel could get used to that - and said he'd pick something good in that case. This was going far better than the first time he had been human.

Close to midnight Castiel reached the motel.

He was exhausted. It struck him as strange that driving, which was predominately sitting, could be so exhausting. He dragged himself out of the car and got his newly acquired bag out of the trunk. He closed the trunk and made sure the car was locked. He had to do that now; protect his belongings from petty theft.

He scanned the doors for the room number: 206. He quickly realized it was on the second level. He crossed the parking lot to the stairs and walked along the doors until he reached 206. Even in the dark Castiel could tell it was cleaner than most motels Sam and Dean frequented.

He knocked on the door and desperately hoped that his mind hadn't been playing tricks on him; that Dean had really agreed to meet him halfway. That they'd drive hom— to the bunker after.

He could hear someone pad softly up to the door and unlock it. A moment later Dean was standing in front of him. He let out a long held breath of relief. Dean pulled him into a hug. He clapped him on the back and held him out at arm's length.

Dean smiled, "You look like shit."

"Thank you." Castiel said dryly.

Dean laughed and pulled him inside. He closed the door behind them. Castiel groaned at the smell of dinner.

Dean grinned at him, "I did some sampling of the local grub before you got here. Figured your second first meal as a human should be good."

He didn't tell Dean he had bought food on his way because nothing had smelt as good as this. He didn't even know what it was but he knew he would rather pretend this was his first meal. He dropped his bag down to the floor of the entryway and walked down the short hall into the room proper. Castiel eyed the paper bags on the table, mouth watering at just the smell.

Dean moved around the table and started taking things out of the bag. He passed Castiel a Styrofoam container which, when he opened it, he discovered was soup. Dean had the spoon out waiting for him.

He sat down and polished off the soup in mere minutes. He glanced up from the empty soup bowl.

"Is something wrong?" Castiel asked. Dean had watched him silently the entire time he had been eating.

"Nah. I'm just glad you're okay." Dean said casually. He shook his head. "Enough shit has been going south lately...it's just good to have something turn out right."  

"What happened?" Castiel asked.

"Sam's..." Dean shook his head.

Castiel felt his heart freeze. "What happened to Sam?"

"He's...fine." Dean looked away. "He's just...can we talk about this later?"

He studied Dean's face. The relief that had been there a moment before was gone, replaced by pain but it didn't look like the true anguish that Dean had when he thought Sam to be completely lost to him. Whatever trouble Sam was in Dean thought it could be fixed.

Castiel nodded. Dean relaxed.

He looked over the assorted food that Dean had bought. As good as it all smelt the soup had been enough to fill his stomach. All he really wanted to do now was sleep— no, shower and then sleep. He smelt terrible from being in the car all day.

"Do you mind if I shower?" Castiel asked.

Dean's face pulled into an amused look, "Go ahead. I'm not about to stand between a man and his shower."

Castiel pushed away from the table and headed for the short hallway where the bathroom was. He glanced over his shoulder at Dean.

"I'll still be here when you get out." Dean assured him.

A soft smile ticked at the corners of Castiel's mouth. He wasn't alone this time. He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. Showering was as pleasant as he remembered. He found a few stray twigs in his hair and he was covered in surprisingly more dirt than he had realized. He scrubbed himself clean and sighed. There were so many things that humans would never understand or enjoy but these simple acts of physical pleasure were things angels in their natural state could never begin to imagine.

He wrapped a towel around his waist when he was done and went back out for his bag that he had left in the hallway. It wasn't there. He frowned and looked over to what he could see of the room. Dean had moved it to one of the beds.

"You alright, Cas?" Dean called out from around the corner.

"I'm fine." Castiel said, going over to his bag for clean clothes.

He glanced to his right as he moved past the table. Dean was still sitting there twirling a fork in a plastic container of pasta.

"Joining a nudist colony?" Dean joked.

"I'm not nude. I have a towel." Castiel retorted.

Dean chuckled.

Castiel went to his bag and opened it up. He hadn't bought very many sets of clothing. He had enough for two or three days and he'd already worn one set today and he hadn't thought at all about clothing to sleep in. He stared at the contents of his bag and decided a t-shirt and boxers would have to do.

He jerked in surprise when a hand gently touched his back. He froze as it slid up to his shoulders and trailed back down. He slinked away from the touch. He turned to see Dean standing there and watching him, almost... _sad_.

"Dean...I..." Castiel didn't know what to say. He knew what that kind of gentle touch meant. He also knew that Dean was, to quote Dean himself, a ' _love'em and leave'em'_ type. He had limited experience in this area of human activity. His only other experience with human sexuality having been terrible; a trick to lure him in that had ended with him being stabbed and a vessel dead. Despite that he wasn't opposed to try again under better circumstances but he didn't want those circumstances to be Dean for one night in a motel and then never be allowed to touch him again.    

"Cas. I- I was so damn scared when you said you were dying." Dean said quietly. He looked away. "I thought...this time it's really going to be it. No coming back dead."

"I'm fine, Dean." Castiel tried to sooth. "Human but otherwise fine."

Dean stepped closer. Castiel backed up until he bumped into the nightstand. Dean kept moving closer until he was inches away. Castiel had the urge to reiterate all of Dean's lectures about personal space.

Dean settled a hand above Castiel's hip and rubbed his thumb over the tattoo there. Castiel set his hand gently on top of Dean's and started to ease it off his side just as Dean lurched forward and kissed him. Castiel yelped in surprise and pushed himself away from Dean. Castiel fell backwards onto the nightstand; knocking the lamp over, making himself flinch and jump again.

Dean pulled away and backed up a few steps. "I'm- shit. Sorry. Fuck. Cas, I didn't..."

Castiel righted himself but stayed where he was sitting on the nightstand. He tugged at the edge of his towel pulling it tighter around himself.

Dean sat down on the bed and stared down at the floor. "I'm so fucking sorry, man. I just...fuck."

He studied Dean. The slouch of his shoulders and the pain on his face. Neither of them moved.

"Why?" Castiel asked. It seemed like the only question he could think to ask with any clarity.

"Because I'm a fucking idiot." Dean said. He turned his head slowly to look at him. "I just thought...one day it's gonna be for real. One of us is gonna bite off more than they can chew and that'll be it. And...just...well...it was stupid. Don't know why I'd think you'd ever want to get with someone like me."

"Dean...I'm not..." Castiel didn't know how to explain it.

Dean waved a hand and looked down at the floor. "Don't. It's fine. It was stupid. I know."

"It wasn't stupid." Castiel said softly. He felt his face start to flush. He tugged at the edge of the towel again making sure it was still in place. "I...it's...Dean, my very first time didn't end well if you happen to recall. I was... _naive_ to put it mildly."

Dean pulled his gaze back up. His eyes flicked over him. Dean looked even sadder.

Castiel felt his chest ache. "I'm not opposed to sex in concept but—"

"But not with me." Dean interrupted.

"No." Castiel said. He righted the lamp because he didn't want to look at Dean when Dean told him it was one night or nothing. "If...I think the same thing too quite frequently. That each time we talk will be the last. If...I...not for one night, Dean. If you want to do this it can't be just for the night."

Dean took in a sharp breath and jerked his head up. It made Castiel look over. Dean was staring wide-eyed; panic, fear, and awe rippling across his face. It made him look like that young hunter who had stabbed him in the barn those few years ago that seemed like several human lifetimes away.

"I..." Dean swallowed hard and pulled in two quick short breaths. "I..." He nodded sharply. "I don't want just one night either."

They stared silently at each other, neither sure what to do next.

Castiel shifted uncomfortably and after a few more minutes of silence decided to get his clothes. As he edged closer to the bed Dean's arm shot out and pulled him in so he stood between Dean's legs. Dean ran his hands up Castiel's sides. It made Castiel's skin prickle and shiver.

"How long?" Dean asked.

"How long for what?" Castiel responded.

"How long did you know? That you wanted...you know?" Dean said, staring up at him, awe and fear still warring on his face.

Castiel hesitantly placed his hands on Dean's arms. "After Lucifer and Michael were sealed in the cage."

Dean looked at him bewildered. He stopped moving his hands and squeezed at his hips. "Why the hell didn't you say anything, dude?"

"Because by then I knew you well enough to know if you wanted this from someone you'd just ask." Castiel said. He slid one hand up Dean's arm. He tilted his head towards it, silently asking if that was okay. Dean smiled. Cas moved his hand further up. "And you never asked."

Dean chuckled and let his head loll back. He groaned then rolled it forward again. A teasing grin on his face. "Dude, you were a powered up angel who repeatedly whooped my ass. You don't think that's kind of intimidating?"

Castiel paused and considered. He knew angels were perceived with a certain level of awe but he had become so close with Dean over any other human he had just assumed Dean was comfortable with what he was. It hadn't occurred to him that the human that would laugh with him, share hardships with him, fight with him when all was lost, was intimidated by him. Dean seemed at ease in his presence more often than not, enough so to yell at the _'powered up angel'_ when he felt like it. Dean demanded things of him that no other human dared to ask an angel but he wouldn't ask for this?

Dean's hands dropped away and went to his shirt. Castiel stepped back, watching Dean strip off his layers. Dean stood up when he got to his jeans. He undid them then stopped. He looked up at Castiel.

"You're not gonna leave after?" Dean asked.

"No." Castiel said. "Are you going to send me away?"

Dean sucked in a hurt breath. "No. I promise you, Cas. I won't ever send you away again."

They each stood quietly watching the other for some sign that everything would fall apart right there.

It didn't.

Dean pushed his jeans and boxers down and stepped out of them. He shivered and looked steadily at Castiel before reaching out and tugging at the edge of the towel. It dropped to the floor. Dean took in a sharp breath and shivered again. He cautiously reached out, as if he didn't think Castiel was real, and pressed his hand flat over his stomach.

Dean's eyes flicked up. "You sure? 'cause yeah, what happened before...that...that really sucked."

He wasn't sure. He had thought he was sure last time and that had ended in tragedy.

"Cas?" Dean said gently. He stepped closer. Castiel could feel the heat radiating off him. Dean slid his hands around his waist. "What do you want, Cas?"

Castiel took a trembling breath, "You."

Dean leaned in and kissed him. He pressed his tongue against his lips. Castiel parted them and took a deep breath. Dean stepped closer, sliding his tongue between his lips. A shiver raced through Castiel. He felt his whole body start to flush pink. His knees trembled. Never in a thousand years had he imagined that Dean would want this.

Dean slowed and stopped. He smiled against his lips. "You got me."

The words put him at ease. He had Dean. He had nothing else; no grace, no plan, no end to the troubles of Heaven, but he had Dean. He had the man who made impossible things happen.

Dean took his hand and guided him down to the bed. It was strangely nerve wracking. He knew Dean. He knew more about this one human then anyone could ever know. He had seen Dean at his lowest in Hell, he had rebuilt Dean's body, he had forged a new side to fight for with him during the apocalypse, he had spent a year in Purgatory with him, he knew so very much about Dean but here he was at a loss. What did he do?

Dean seemed to know what Castiel was thinking. "It's okay. Just lay back."

Castiel sunk down to the bed. He flinched when Dean's hands swept over him.

"That okay?" Dean asked.

"Y-yes." Castiel said through a shiver. Dean was rubbing a thumb over his nipple, his other hand still trailing up and down his stomach.

"Just relax." Dean said softly as he laid down beside him. "You can touch me if you want...or not if you don't want to."

Castiel breathed deeply and nodded. He slid a hand across the bed to Dean's thigh. Dean made an approving noise and shuffled closer. Dean leaned in and kissed him again. Castiel brought his other arm up and slipped it around Dean. Dean shifted his weight and pressed against him and suddenly all his senses were wrapped up in Dean. His fears sloughed off. This wouldn't be like last time.

Dean smiled against his lips at the noises he made. His hand pressed against his stomach and started wandering lower. He stopped, fingers skirting the edge of those dark curls of hair. "Still good?"

Castiel nodded. He was far more than good right now. His body was pleasurably on fire. His groin ached with the desire to be touched. "Still good. I'll tell you if I'm not."

Dean smiled again. His fingers slipped into the hair around the base of his dick and kept moving down to cup his balls.

Castiel let himself bask in the warm touches that sent lightening through his nerves. He hissed with pleasure as Dean worked his hand up to take hold of his dick. He slid his own hand along Dean's thigh until the back of it brushed against the soft skin of Dean's cock. He hesitated for a moment before tentatively wrapping his hand around it.

"Know what to do with that?" Dean teased.

Castiel rolled his eyes and started stroking.

Dean let out a surprised huff, "Yeah, you know what to do."

It was easy. It was easy to roll his hips up into Dean's hand. It was easy to pace his own hand as Dean did the same. It was easy to let go and forget what had happened before and forget about the troubles that would surely lay ahead.

His breaths started to come in short gasps and each exhale was a low groan. Dean slowed his hand until he had stopped.

"Uh...I...ummm...I think I have some lube...if you, ah, you know...want to use it." Dean said. His face flushed pink.

"Use...?" Castiel asked, confused. What did he— "Oh. Umm..."

"We don't have to." Dean said quickly. "I mean, there'll be other nights, right? 'cause you're staying."

Castiel's lips pulled into a slow smile. There _would_ be other nights. If he wanted to touch Dean again, he could. If he wanted to do this with Dean again, he could.

"You can...uh...be on top...if you want." Dean offered, keeping his eyes on a point on Castiel's chest, his cheeks bright red.

Castiel considered the offer for a moment. "I'd rather it be as different as possible this time."

"Different?" Dean asked, confused. His face had faded back to pink from bright red.

Castiel glanced down to Dean's cock. He tugged it gently towards himself not sure how to ask for what he wanted.

Dean's eyes flicked over him for a second before his eyebrows went up. "You want me to..." Dean thrust his hips towards him and arched an eyebrow in a silent question.

"Yes." Castiel said. He wasn't really certain but he'd rather none of this experience remind him of the last time.

Dean stared at him for a moment before rolling off the bed and digging through his bag. He came back a moment later with a bottle and a foil packet. He set the foil packet on the nightstand then climbed back in bed.

"...should I...move?" Castiel asked, not really sure what this would entail. What would be easiest for Dean?

Dean tilted his head back and forth in thought. He made a circular motion with his hand. "How about you roll over on your side?"

Castiel did as Dean suggested. Dean squirmed closer to him until he was pressed up against his back. Dean wrapped an arm around him. Castiel let out a long sigh. This was nice. He felt warm and safe.

Dean rocked his hips against him, his dick sliding along Castiel's butt. Castiel was still for a moment, letting Dean set the pace, before pushing back. It felt surprisingly good the way Dean's cock slid between his cheeks.

Dean moved his arm away. Castiel heard a snap and a moment later Dean's fingers were pressing cold lube against him. He flinched away from the cold.

"Sorry." Dean said to the back of his head. "Always forget it's a little cold."

Castiel pressed back against Dean's fingers as they rubbed and pushed at that tight ring of muscle. "It's alright. It's warm now anyway."

Dean chuckled as he circled with his fingers.

Castiel's eyes slipped closed as he enjoyed the sparks of pleasure from Dean rubbing and pressing. It was relaxing having Dean pressed up close behind him. Castiel's eyes popped open with a gasp when Dean pressed a finger in.

He stilled for a moment, processing the sensation, then thrust his hips back looking for more. Dean's finger slid in further. He let out a soft moan.

Dean leaned in and kissed his shoulder as he started pumping his finger in and out of Castiel's ass.

Castiel squirmed on the bed. It wasn't enough. He didn't know what else he wanted but he knew one finger in him wasn't enough. He thought he wanted more but he also thought he wanted to kiss Dean again and maybe have him touch his nipples again and perhaps take Dean up on his offer about being the penetrating partner.

Dean pressed a second finger in. Castiel arched his back. He thrashed back onto Dean's fingers - Dean started trying to push in a third - until Dean pulled them away suddenly.

"What's wrong?" Castiel asked quickly.

"Hold your horses." Dean chastised. Castiel could hear the grin in his voice. There was another snap - the bottle of lube opening - and then Dean slid his fingers back in, this time pressing in a third.

Castiel made a surprised noise. It hadn't hurt but he hadn't been expecting Dean to simply push three fingers in all the way. "Wait."

Dean stopped. Castiel pulled his hips forward then slowly pushed back onto Dean's fingers. He did that a few times, slowly moving faster, until they were moving at the rhythm they had set before and Dean was sliding his fingers in and out with ease.

Castiel would have quite happily done that for hours but eventually Dean stopped and he heard the crinkle of foil. A condom. He glanced over his shoulder and watched Dean put it on. Dean grabbed the lube again - snap went the cap - and squirted a liberal amount onto his dick. He watched Dean spread the lube and then reach over to spread the excess onto his ass even though his cheeks were already slick with lube.

Dean shuffled closer. "Hike your leg up a bit."

Castiel brought his knee to his chest. Dean felt along his back side, slipping two fingers into him and pulling them out before Castiel felt Dean's cock push against him. His heart started to beat faster. Dean pushed forward. He started breathing hard. The head of Dean's cock pressed in and stopped.

"Relax." Dean said. He slipped his arm back around Castiel and slowly started thrusting his hips forward. "Just relax, Cas."

Castiel nodded. He reached down to his side and set his hand over top of Dean's. Dean laced their fingers together. Castiel breathed easier. He let the tension flow out of his body. He sunk backwards into Dean. He let out a long breath while Dean steadily pushed forward.

Dean stopped. Castiel stared at the opposite wall perplexed. Had he done something wrong? Did Dean not enjoy this?

"...is...is something wrong?" Castiel asked again.

"Huh?" Dean sounded confused.

"You stopped." Castiel said.

Dean huffed out a quiet laugh, "Yeah, because there's no more to put in. I'm not a record breaker. I'm just giving you some time to get used to it."

Castiel twitched his head to the side. If he hadn't been laying down he would have tilted it in question. He pressed his butt back and realized Dean was right. He was as far back on Dean as he could go. His butt was warm and snug in Dean's lap. He squeezed around Dean's dick testing how it felt. Dean made a throaty noise in response.

"Did that hurt?" Castiel asked, worried.

"No." Dean said, his face pressed against Castiel's neck. "No. Feels real damn good."

Castiel did it again. Dean made the noise again then slowly started pulling back. Castiel shivered. He let out a gasp that was cut short when Dean started pushing back in. Dean let go of his fingers and grabbed his dick.

This was nothing like the last time. Nothing at all. His eyes sunk shut and his head rolled back towards Dean as the rhythm of Dean's thrust drew a moan out of him each time he pulled back or pushed in. They moved in a sinuous motion always trying to press more in.

Castiel reached back and grabbed Dean's thigh trying to pull him in closer.

Dean huffed out a laugh against his neck. "Maybe you should have been on top."

"No. No, I like this." Castiel said between shaky breaths.

Dean chuckled again and kissed his shoulder, "I meant like this but on top. You can get more in on top."

Castiel meant to say more than the harsh groan that spilled out of him but Dean had picked then to bite at the meat of his shoulder and pump his hand tight around his cock. He had thought biting during sex was just some strange human evolutionary throw back but it sent a shock of pleasure ripping through him. Dean let go and kissed the spot he had bitten but his _hand_ , his hand kept going.

Castiel jerked his hips back faster. Harsh gasps puffed against his ear making him shiver. Dean's hand was slick around his dick with pre-come. Dean's hips shoved against him harder and faster.

"Oh fuck. _Cas,_ fuck." Dean moaned against his ear. Dean moaned; ragged sounding, _frantic_.

"Ah‒ hh." Was all Castiel could say in response. He knew what the frantic sounds Dean made meant. He knew and he was the one that was making Dean feel like _that;_ could be the one to make Dean feel like that for as many nights to come as they could manage.

That tight ring of muscle clenched down as he came with a wordless groan but if he could have pieced a word together it would have been _Dean_.

" _Cassss."_ Dean hissed his name into the back of his neck as his hips slammed forward. Dean tensed against him and slammed his hips forward again, then twice more before the tension left his body.

Dean stilled against Castiel for a moment before leisurely rolling his hips forward a few times making Castiel's breath hitch. The slow roll of Dean's hips came to a stop. Dean let out an explosive breath against his neck. Castiel pressed back enjoying the melting feeling that was spreading through his bones.

Dean pressed against him for a moment before pulling out and rolling away. Castiel clenched against the empty feeling. Dean chuckled behind him, then pressed his fingers in quickly and thrust them in and out. Castiel gasped in surprise. Dean took his fingers out and a moment later was offering Castiel a tissue.

"Thank you." Castiel said, taking the tissue. He wiped the come from his stomach and dick.

Dean gave him another to wipe up what had landed on the bed before getting up. Castiel frowned, not sure if he had done something or if Dean preferred to be active after sex, but then realized he was putting the food away. Castiel moved to get up and help but Dean motioned for him to stay where he was.

Castiel pulled the blankets back and got under them, thankful that Dean was taking care of the small human details.

Dean finished putting the food away then turned the lights off and padded quietly across the room. Castiel moved over as Dean slid into the bed beside him. He sighed as Dean wrapped an arm around him.

"...you're still going to stay?" Dean asked in the darkness.

Castiel turned around in Dean's arms and slid his own arms around Dean. "As long as you don't want me to leave."

"I never really wanted you to leave." Dean said quietly. He leaned closer and kissed him, missing his mouth and mostly kissing his nose.

"I never wanted to go." Castiel said. He tucked his chin in and curled his head into Dean's chest.

Castiel sighed contentedly. He was warm and safe and didn't have to worry about food and water or where he'd sleep that night. This time as a human was already decidedly more pleasant than the last time.

He fell asleep to the steady sound of Dean's heartbeat and the occasional breath gently ruffling his hair. Even his dreams felt warm and safe.

He woke to sunlight streaming through the window and Dean running a hand down his side while he hummed a song. Castiel shuffled closer to the warmth that was Dean and pulled the blankets more tightly around him until he was snug in place.

Castiel's head vibrated with the deep chuckle that rumbled out of Dean.

"Who knew angel burrito was the way to go to get you to quit being such a damn flight risk all the time." Dean laughed.

Dean pulled him in closer. Castiel fell back to sleep, safe and warm.

The second time Castiel woke up he was alone in the bed, still warm but finding himself alone suddenly made that sense of safety disappear. He sat up and looked around. Dean wasn't in the room. His face dropped into a frown. Dean had promised to not send him away, he hadn't promised not to leave.

He slid his legs out of bed. His feet hit Dean's duffle bag. He let out a relieved breath, Dean hadn't left him behind. As if thinking about him had summoned him the door to the motel room opened and a few seconds later Dean walked in.

Even without his angelic senses one quick look was all Castiel needed to know something was wrong.

"What happened?" Castiel asked.

Dean crossed the room and dropped down beside him. He tossed his phone onto the bed then leaned against him. "Sam phoned...he's been...he won't listen to a word I say...and he's been running off to meet up with demons."

"He's meeting with demons?" Castiel asked, surprised. The Winchesters had a strange working relationship with Crowley sometimes but they didn't often meet with other demons, not unless something had gone terribly wrong.

"Yeah. I think...Cas..." Dean looked at him sadly then pulled away. He stared down at the floor. "I think he's drinking demon blood again. I think he thinks it'll help with the mark."

Castiel leaned closer to him. "Sam wouldn't do that."

"I woulda said that the first time." Dean said humourlessly. "And he was draining that Ruby bitch dry."

Castiel's eyebrows came together in concern. Sam had been so very careful to conceal it the first time. He hadn't known, even the other angels hadn't known at first what Sam had been doing. But Sam wouldn't do that now. Sam had thought he was help—

"Do you think he's been doing it long?" Castiel asked. Sam wouldn't drink demon blood. Unless he thought it was the only way to help his brother, to help put an end to the mark of Cain. Castiel reached out slowly to settle his hand on Dean's knee, a gesture of support just as much as one of intimacy. He'd help Dean to get Sam clean of demon blood once more. He wouldn't leave this time.

Dean jerked at Castiel's touch. He looked down at Castiel's hand, a small smile flickered on his face before he covered Castiel's hand with his own. Dean let out a long breath, his face closing off as he did.

"I dunno." Dean stood abruptly. "We should pack up. Head out." Dean grabbed his bag off the floor. "You want to shower or anything before we hit the road?"

"Yes. I'd like to wash up from last night." Castiel ran a hand over his stomach where there was still flakes of dried come, there was also the sticky feeling of dried lube between his cheeks of his butt and his legs.

"Yeah, sorry." Dean said. His face flushed slightly. "Kinda made a mess of ya."

"We both did." Castiel said, a hint of a smile at his lips. He stood and went to his bag to pick out clean clothes, noting that Dean had put his other clothes away while he had slept.

"Gonna throw my bag in the car." Dean said, his face still showing a hint of pink.

Castiel nodded. He took out clean clothes and headed for the bathroom, Dean following him towards the motel door. Castiel stepped into the bathroom, clothes in hand.

Dean caught his arm and turned him around. His face was bright red. He leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. Dean pulled away and looked down again. "I'm...it's good you're staying."

"I'm glad you want me to stay." Castiel said, smiling softly.

Dean nodded and headed for the door as if it was all too much.

Castiel set his clothes on the bathroom counter. He looked up into the mirror. Last time he had been human he had felt like an outsider trying to find his way in. This time he felt as though Dean had pulled him inside the moment he had walked through the motel door.

A song started playing in the other part of the room then stopped. He looked at the bathroom door confused. The song started playing again. Dean's phone. Castiel stared at the door for a moment before deciding to check Dean's phone. He stepped out of the bathroom.

Maybe it was Sam. Maybe he could reason with him; demon blood wasn't the way to help Dean. They'd find another way.

He found Dean's phone on the bed where Dean had left it. He looked at the caller ID. It _was_ Sam. He hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Hello?" Castiel said, caution in his voice.

There was a sharp inhale of breath, "— _Cas?"_

"Yes." Castiel said. It was Sam. He sat down on the bed. "Sam, Dean told me about what you're doing."

"What?" Sam asked, sounding confused.

"We can help you." Castiel said firmly. They could. The three of them would find a way to save Dean that didn't involve deals and demon blood.

There was a heavy pause before Sam said, "Help me with what?"

"Getting clean." Castiel said. Clearly Sam was still in denial about the demon blood.

"Clean...? Cas, what did Dean‒ never mind." Sam said. His voice grew concerned, "Cas, are you with Dean right now?"

"Sam, we can help you." Castiel said. Winchesters always changed the subject when they didn't want to talk about something important. He had learned that persistence paid off.

"I don't need help, Cas. It's Dean that needs help." Sam said earnestly. "He lost it in a diner in Colorado and slaughtered everyone in it. I think- I think he's a demon again."

Castiel frowned at the phone. Was the demon blood making Sam paranoid? He had acted strangely at the height of his usage the first time.

"He's not a demon." Castiel said.

"Well then the mark has got him pretty good." Sam retorted.

"Sam, you—" Castiel jumped when Dean plucked the phone out of his hands. He hadn't heard him come in.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean said, turning away. He sounded almost amused, "Now what were you saying to Cas?"

Castiel's face drew together. The tone of Dean's voice planted a seed of doubt in his stomach. He went to his bag to get his angel blade. He frowned when he didn't immediately find it. He took out the clothes. It wasn't in his bag. He stared at his bag then glanced over at Dean. Dean winked at him before rounding the corner into the hallway and heading out the motel door.

Castiel stared at the spot where Dean had stepped out of view. A terrible cool feeling started settling over him. He went to the bathroom and filled up one of the plastic cups on the counter with water. He said a quick Enochian prayer over it, blessing it.

He could hear Dean on the other side of the motel door talking to Sam. He didn't sound concerned. He didn't sound like he thought Sam was drinking demon blood. Castiel breathed deep and stepped into the hallway.

He waited. He waited and desperately hoped that he was overreacting. He'd splash holy water in Dean's face and Dean would make that exasperated expression and tell him that Sam's been different since he started drinking demon blood.

The door opened. Dean blinked in surprise to find him standing in the hallway.

Castiel tossed the water at Dean's face.

Dean snarled as the water hissed and boiled on his skin. His eyes turned black.

Castiel threw himself forward, trying to take Dean down before he recovered from the shock of the holy water. The last thing he remembered was Dean stepping aside and his fist coming towards his face.

Castiel woke up, still naked with his arms tied folded across his back and his belt around his upper arms and chest so he couldn't move them. He was laying half on the bed, his legs hanging off the edge. He sat up; the movement making him aware of something on his left ankle. He looked down to see a chain wrapped around his leg and attached to the bed.

"You're up. Good." Dean said from where he was sitting at the small motel table. "I got dinner."

Castiel glared at him.

Dean looked back at him innocently, "What?"

"You're holding me prisoner." Castiel said flatly.

"You're not a prisoner." Dean scoffed. He picked up a plastic container of takeout and moved to sit across from Castiel on the other bed.

Castiel looked down to his ankle then back up to Dean. He rattled the chain on his ankle; a reasonable argument that he was being held hostage.

Dean rolled his eyes and opened the plastic container. "Well, I couldn't let you just take off before I got a chance to explain."

"What's there to explain?" Castiel said. He had been tricked into feeling safe with this _demon_. His eyebrows drew together in worry. He hadn't been tricked by a demon. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Dean wasn't possessed. This wasn't a demon possessing Dean, this was Dean as a demon. Dean's soul corrupted by the mark of Cain.

Dean held out a fork full of food in front of Castiel's mouth. Castiel looked away. Dean sighed and held the fork closer. "Come on. Eat something and we'll talk."

Castiel couldn't look at him.

"It's not like I poisoned it." Dean said. He ate the forkful of food. "See?"

"You're a demon." Castiel said bitterly. "Poison doesn't work on you."

Dean looked at the plastic container and frowned as if he had forgot that crucial detail. "...right."

Castiel narrowed his eyes at him trying to see even the faintest hint that Dean was a demon. He couldn't see anything except what was sitting right in front of him; Dean, his eyes clear and green and not at all black with the taint of Hell, trying to offer him food.

"I'll eat if you untie me." Castiel said. He shifted uncomfortably. "I'll listen to what you have to say if you take the chain off."

Dean sighed. He set the container down. "I gotta take care of some stuff first. We'll talk when I get back."

Castiel watched as Dean packed up the dinner he had bought and started for the door.

" _Dean."_ Castiel called out as he heard the motel door open. A tremor of quiet fear crawled under his skin. What if Dean left him? Abandoned him in this motel room, chained to the bed. How long before someone found him? Human bodies were so fragile. They needed food and water so frequently. What about the circulation in his arms? He called out again, "Dean! Come back! I'll talk with you!"

The door closed. Castiel stared wide-eyed. Dean was a demon and had left him tied and chained in a motel room for some indeterminate amount of time.

Castiel spent the next few hours trying to untie himself and shove the bed up high enough to slip the chain out from under it. He couldn't do either. He shoved his shoulders fruitlessly against the side of the bed only succeeding in pushing it across the room. He needed his arms free to lift the bed.

The room grew dark. Castiel clambered back onto the bed. He stretched out on his stomach, trying to take the pressure off his aching arms and shoulders. Castiel's mind drifted in the dark. How had his second time as a human gone from warm and safe to being tied up in the dark waiting for a demon to return?

The rattle of the door being unlocked pulled his thoughts back together. He turned his head to watch the dark outline of Dean walk through the room. He heard Dean drop his duffle bag on the other bed and unzip it.

Castiel slowed his breathing down and tried to flatten himself into the bed. What would Dean do as a demon? He had already tied him up and chained him. He was defenceless like this. Should he try to talk to him? Did he really want to call the attention of a demon to himself? What if it was the mark of Cain? What if its influence flared up almost protectively when he had thrown holy water at Dean? Maybe Dean was in control again? Or at least more reasonable now.

Dean crossed the room and sat down on the bed beside him. He set a hand gently on Castiel's arm. "Cas?"

Castiel hesitated. Dean's voice sounded calm and gentle, almost as if he was afraid of waking him. It had to be a trick. Dean wouldn't tie him up and leave him alone for hours.

"You still awake?" Dean asked. He trailed his hand along Castiel's side just as he had this morning.

Castiel pursed his lips. Dean's voice and touch were so very gentle but he was still tied up in a shady motel room. What did he do? Demand to be untied? Threaten him? That was laughable. Placate him, perhaps?

"Yes." Castiel said. He turned his head to try and better make out Dean in the darkness. He felt Dean shift closer to him. Dean's hand started to knead at the screaming muscles of his back.

"Good. Was worried I woke you up." Dean said.

Worried he woke him up, but not worried that he had tied him up? That didn't bode well. Castiel searched for what might persuade a demonic Dean to untie him.

"You didn't wake me." Castiel said, trying to sound relaxed. "I would...like to apologize for before."

Dean's hand stopped. It slid down to the rope around Castiel's wrists. "You want to apologize?"

"Yes." Castiel said. He held his breath as Dean's fingers played over the rope and let it out in a long defeated sigh when Dean got up instead of untying him.

So much for trying to placate a dem—

The snap of a cap opening made him flinch. His eyes went wide. He felt the bed sink down as Dean moved across the bed, shoving his knee between Castiel's legs. Castiel squirmed forward trying to move away but a firm hand pressed down on his butt and without warning a finger was plunged into his ass.

His hips thrashed back seeking out the source of pleasure while the air in his lungs was punched out in surprise. Dean's finger worked in and out. Castiel's heart sped up, his breathing came fast in a panic, he tried to clench against Dean's finger but Dean pushed it in as if he didn't even notice— or more likely, as if he didn't care. Why would a demon care?

Castiel's chest heaved trying to take in air as his panic rose. He tried to roll away but Dean's hand held him in place. He tried to kick at him but Dean had spread his knees, pushing his legs too far apart. The most he could do was contract his body to try and get his knees under himself to scramble off the bed. He pressed his weight onto his shoulders and shimmied his knees forward, the chain on his ankle clinked and rattled.

He gasped in pain as Dean shoved a second finger into his ass which Castiel realized he had conveniently put on display for the demon. He dropped his knees out from under himself. Dean's fingers slid out as he hit the bed.

He breathed hard and laid still. Maybe if he didn't move Dean would get bored and leave him alone. The bottle of lube snapped open again. A tremor went through Castiel. Dean shoved both fingers back into his ass. Castiel pressed his face into the pillows. He was crying silently by the time Dean pressed a third finger in. How had this gone from wonderful to horrendous in just one short day?

Castiel took in one ragged breath after another and tried to ignore what Dean was doing.

Once Dean could easily slide three fingers in he grabbed his hips and yanked them up; Castiel's face and shoulders supporting his body. Dean pressed two fingers back into him, working them in and out for a moment before he pulled them away. There was the snap of the cap again. Castiel flinched and pressed his eyes shut. He breathed in short bursts as his heart pounded. Dean wouldn't do this. Dean didn't do this to people.

But a demon would.

And Dean was a demon.

Castiel clenched his butt as tight as he could. He felt Dean's cock nudge against his hole. There was no gentle murmur of _relax_ this time.

Dean's cock pressed in slowly without stopping. It hurt. The harder he tried to clench and keep it out the more it hurt. The pain was throbbing by the time he felt Dean's hips press against his butt. Dean stroked his back for a moment. Castiel shivered. The touch was so gentle and so completely at odds with the pain he was in and what Dean was doing.

He whimpered in pain when Dean pulled back and started thrusting. His face was mashed against the pillow. It was hard to breathe, being pushed down on every stroke.

A broken sob escaped Castiel. He should have known this wouldn't end well. Every time he was tempted by physical pleasure terrible things happened. He didn't bother to hold it in anymore. Dean wasn't going to get bored and stop. Dean was already doing it. He would have liked to curl into himself and cry but Dean kept thrusting, shoving his face harder into the pillows.

By some miracle Dean stopped.

Dean pulled out. The bed shifted as Dean got up. The bedside lamp turned on. Castiel couldn't bear to turn his head and look at Dean. The bed shifted again as Dean crawled back on the bed and positioned himself behind him. Another sob wrecked his throat. Was it not enough that Dean was doing this? Dean wanted to _see_ too?

Dean yanked him upright by the belt around his arms and torso until he was sitting back on his heels. Dean moved around to look at his face. Of all the things Castiel expected to see on Dean's face it wasn't sadness and hurt.

Dean wiped at the tears on Castiel's cheek, leaving behind a line of lube instead. Dean studied him silently with gentle eyes and concern written all over his face. Castiel had to remind himself that those green eyes could turn black at a moment's notice.

"You said you wanted to apologize." Dean said quietly.

Castiel didn't know what to say. He hadn't meant this. He hadn't even genuinely meant to ask for forgiveness from a demon. Dean stared at him as if Castiel had betrayed him. Tears rolled down Castiel's cheeks. Why did everything have to fall apart? Why couldn't he have last night forever? Why was there a _demon_ where there should be Dean? A pitiful distressed sound escaped his lips.

Dean sighed, "Alright. It's okay." Dean said soothingly. He wiped his hand clean on the blankets then wiped away the lube and tears on Castiel's cheek. "I get it. Too much too soon after that reaper. We can take it slow."

Castiel's eyes went wide in fear as Dean leaned in and pulled him into a hug.

"We'll talk about things tomorrow." Dean said, then planted a kiss on the top of Castiel's head.

Dean eased Castiel down to the bed on his side. He stroked Castiel's side and murmured things that would have been soothing if Dean hadn't just taken him against his will. Castiel slowed his breathing down and did his best to look relaxed. He didn't want Dean to touch him for one second longer.

He cringed when Dean leaned down and pressed a kiss against his ear. Then Dean got up and turned the lamp off. Castiel rolled onto his back in a poor attempt at protecting himself; circulation in his arms be damned. He knew if Dean wanted to roll him over again there was nothing stopping him.

Silent tears fell from his eyes as tremors ran through him. How had he not realized Dean was a demon? How had he let this happen? He had walked into this motel room and hadn't even thought to check if anything was wrong with Dean. He _knew_ Dean had the mark of Cain. How had he been so stupid?

A breath that threatened to be a gut tearing sob punched out of him. His chest ached. He should have known Dean was a demon because not once in all these years had Dean ever touched him the way he had last night. He should have known Dean, the _real_ Dean, wouldn't do that. He'd let his own desires overshadow caution. He should have known better.

Castiel didn't think he'd sleep that night, ache in his chest and butt sticky with lube, but sleep he did.

He woke up to Dean sliding between his legs. He jerked his knee up. He heard the click of teeth as it caught Dean in the jaw. He kicked out again. Dean caught his leg and held it down. He kicked out with the other leg. Dean caught that one too.

"I should have known it was too much. You're still new to all this kind of stuff." Dean said, rubbing his thumb over Castiel's leg. "I wanna say sorry, for last night."

"Then say it and let me go." Castiel said, trying not to let the fear he was feeling show in his voice.

"I'm gonna." Dean said. He slid his hands down Castiel's legs until he was crouched over his dick. "Then I'm gonna untie you and then we'll talk. Alright?"

Dean didn't wait for an answer, instead he leaned down and took Castiel's dick in his mouth.

To his body's credit his dick barely hardened and the pleasure that Dean was trying to drag out of him did nothing to eclipse the fear and disgust.

Dean pulled up after fifteen minutes of mostly fruitless labour. "Come on, Cas. Don't be a stubborn bastard. I'm sorry."

Castiel scowled down at Dean. How could Dean think this made up for last night? He was just doing it to him again. Even as a demon Dean must know this was a farce of an apology.

Dean leaned back in. "You know I can do this a lot longer than I could before." Dean said conversationally. "I don't have to sleep or eat, hell, I don't even have to breathe if I don't want to. Watch." Dean leaned in and took him in to the base and started sucking. It went on for minutes. Dean pulled back, "See? I could do this all day."

Castiel looked away. Dean leaned back in and dragged it out for an hour. Castiel tried to keep his breathing even but couldn't help the gasps of pleasure that interspersed the whimpers of anguish. He felt it build slowly. Dean grinned smugly around his cock. That ache went through Castiel's chest again. It felt like when Metatron had told him Dean had died but this was so much worse. How had it come to this?

Castiel tried to will the pleasure away. He couldn't. He couldn't help it when his body arched and he came down Dean's throat. He hadn't enjoyed it. He hadn't wanted it. But his heart was racing and his breathing was fast and pleasure still sang through his body. He felt used and gross.

Dean sat up and let his legs go. He wiped his mouth, "Feel better?"

Castiel kicked him square in the chest. He heard a rib snap.

Dean gave him a hurt look then moved down and unchained his leg. He grabbed the belt around Castiel's arms and pulled him upright. He crawled behind him and sat with his legs on either side of Castiel.

Castiel tensed. He could feel Dean's erection pressing against his back. He shook as Dean untied his arms first then removed the belt. Castiel elbowed him in the stomach and made to scramble off the bed.

Dean's arms wrapped around him like a vice. "I said I was going to untie you and then we'd talk."

"What's there to talk about?" Castiel growled. He struggled in Dean's arms.

"Lots of things, Cas." Dean said in his ear. Castiel snapped his head back trying to hit Dean in the nose. Dean jerked aside then leaned back in. "I'm sure you got some questions."

Castiel pushed at Dean's arms and struggled against him until he was breathing hard and exhausted while Dean simply held on with his cock hard and pressed against him. Castiel went still when he started feeling pre-come wetting his back. He couldn't get away unless Dean let him go and he didn't want to encourage Dean to anymore sexual acts.

"If I let you go-" Dean paused to kiss the side of his neck. "-will you promise to stay and talk?"

"Yes." Castiel said, anything to make Dean let him go.

"I know you're lying." Dean said but let him go anyway.

Castiel hurled himself away before Dean could get a-hold of him again. Dean shrugged and simply got up and put himself between Castiel and the door. Castiel looked around for a weapon but there was nothing that would do much damage to a demon. He wandered if Dean had gone through his bag and taken the angel blade or if he had absentmindedly left it in the car.

"So?" Dean asked, pulling a chair from the table over to the hallway.

"So what?" Castiel snapped.

"What's wrong?" Dean said as he dropped down into the chair putting himself between Castiel and the door. He rubbed at his chest absently where Castiel had kicked him.

Castiel's eyes went wide. He angrily jabbed a finger at the bed. "Beyond _that?"_

"What?" Dean shrugged. "I was just saying sorry for last night."

Castiel couldn't think of a response to that except to scream. He clenched his jaw and stayed silent instead.

"So what'd Sam say that got your panties in a twist?" Dean said. He flashed his eyes black. "That I'm a demon again?" Dean's eyes flashed back to green. "I'm still me."

An incredulous laugh barked out of Castiel. This was still Dean? Dean who put everyone before himself? That Dean wouldn't lure him into a motel room and promise him things he never meant only to tear it all away the next night.

"Sam said you killed a diner full of people." Castiel said sharply. "Would the real you do that?"

Dean's eyebrows went up, "Cas, they had it coming. You should have seen the kind of monsters they were."

"What kind of monsters, Dean?" Castiel asked, he scanned the room for his bag but it was gone. A spasm of fear went through him, he wanted clothes. If there weren't any weapons to hand he would at least prefer to be clothed. A thin barrier between himself and Dena was better than none. "Werewolves? Skinwalkers? Vampires?"

"The human kind." Dean said flatly. His eyes turned hard and stern. "Don't even try to tell me humans aren't monsters. The worst kinds of monsters are human."

They stood there in a standoff for hours until Castiel sunk down the far wall exhausted. His stomach growled. He hadn't eaten since the night he got to the motel room and he desperately had to use the bathroom. Panic, fear, anger, and hurt roiled through his stomach. It was too much for a human body to handle, after a few hours of sitting slumped against the wall he found his head dropping to his chest. He'd snap it back up to find Dean passively watching him.

Castiel's eyes burned with exhaustion. He wasn't going to be able to keep himself awake and then he'd be at the mercy of a demon once more.

As he sunk unwillingly into the darkness he felt warmth spread between his legs.

He woke to sunlight streaming through the window. Dean was gently humming and running a soft hand down his side. Castiel shuffled closer to the warmth that was Dean and pulled the blankets more tightly around him until he was snug in place.

The humming stopped as Castiel's head vibrated with a deep chuckle that rumbled out of Dean.

"Angel burrito." Dean laughed. "Didn't know what I was missing out on."

For a brief second Castiel thought maybe everything since that phone call from Sam was a horrible dream, a nightmare. Dean was gentle. Dean waited for him to relax. Dean kissed the back of his neck. Dean flushed pink when he kissed him on the lips. Dean wouldn't tie him up and hold him captive. Dean wouldn't— he shuddered. Dean wouldn't _rape_ someone.

It all came crashing back when Dean opened his mouth.

"So was our little chat yesterday enough?" Dean asked, curling more tightly around him. "Or are we gonna have another Mexican standoff?"

His heart hammered in his chest when the ghost of the pain of Dean's fingers shoving into him without care came back. He tensed up. He flung himself off the bed but Dean grabbed his arm and dragged him back in and under him. Dean held him down as he took in short gasping breaths. He felt like his heart might explode in his chest like an unstable vessel.

Dean's eyes went wide in concern, "Calm down, Cas. Hey, chill buddy." Dean pressed his hips against Castiel's and tightened his legs around his. "Everything is fine."

Everything was _not_ fine. Dean was a demon.

"I'm gonna let you go but you gotta promise to calm down and sit up slowly." Dean said the words in a gentle measured tone and waited for Castiel to respond.

Castiel nodded but his heart still beat in fear. Dean eased up off him and slid off the bed. Castiel watched him warily as he went over to the table and sat down. Castiel slowly sat up. He stared at Dean— the thing that used to be Dean.

"Brought your bag in." Dean gestured towards his bag sitting on the other bed.

Castiel reached out and grabbed his bag. He pulled on the first thing his hands touched. He wanted to be covered. He didn't want to feel Dean's eyes roving over his bare skin.

"You freaked me out there a bit." Dean said conversationally. "When you passed out."

Castiel felt his face burn red as he realized he had passed out from fear essentially and wet himself. He glanced over at the spot he had dropped to the floor. It looked clean. Dean must have cleaned him and the carpet up. It was disturbingly attentive for a demon but something Dean would do without thinking twice.

Dean's phone rang. He answered it but didn't take his eyes off Castiel.

It was Sam on the phone. Castiel watched Dean as he spoke to his brother. He could just make out Sam's angry voice. What had Dean told Sam about him? Did Sam even know he was human? Did Sam know Dean had held him captive for two days? Did Sam know Dean had—

To his surprise Dean tossed the phone over to him.

"Sam wants to talk to you." Dean said simply.

Castiel stared at the phone puzzled before bringing it up to his ear. "...Sam?"

"Oh thank god!" Sam said. He sounded relieved and worried all at once. "I thought he might have...are you okay?"

Castiel hesitated. He wasn't. Not at all. But what would Dean do if he said that? Would he not care? Would it set him off? Dean was a demon. A demon's mood could change with the wind. What if he said no and Dean tied him up again?

"Say yes if you're alright and say you're okay if he's threatening you." Sam said.

"...yes...I'm okay." Castiel said. He _was_ alright at the moment, he just needed to escape, and Dean hadn't actually _explicitly_ threatened him at any point but he _felt_ threatened.

"So you're alright for now?" Sam asked.

"I think so." Castiel said quietly. He'd be better once he worked out a plan to get away from Dean.

Dean grumbled and rolled his eyes. "I can hear you just fine, Sam. Cas, just put it on speaker phone."

Castiel hesitated for a moment but put it on speaker phone. Dean came closer. Castiel backed up until Dean shook his head at him and motioned for him to sit on the bed. Castiel shivered as he sat down. He froze when Dean sat down beside him.

"I'm not hurting him." Dean said, exasperated.

"And I should believe a demon because...?" Sam said.

"I'm your brother." Dean said.

"No you're not." Sam retorted.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Sam, I am your brother whether you like it or not. You can’t change that."

"If you were still my brother you wouldn't be holding Cas hostage." Sam said sternly.

"I'm not holding him hostage. He can leave whenever he wants." Dean said. He looked up at Castiel. "Right, Cas?"

Castiel didn't say anything. He couldn't, he was still caught up in what Dean had said. Not hurting him? Dean had tied him up and left him in a motel room only to return and rape him. Twice.

"Cas?" Dean looked at him confused. "Cas...buddy...come on. You know me, I wouldn't do that."

Castiel stayed silent. He _did_ know Dean and Dean wouldn't have done anything he had done the last two days.

"Cas?" Sam asked with growing concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Sam." Castiel said. The lie rolled off his tongue so easily. He couldn't tell _Sam_ what had happened. He couldn't tell Sam what this demonic Dean was using his brother's body to do.

"Cas...come on. Cas?" Dean looked at him sadly as if Castiel were betraying him, as if he hadn't hurt him these past two days.

Anger bubbled up in Castiel's stomach. How could this _thing_ pretend to be Dean and act as if it had done no wrong? He glowered at him. "Dean, I _tried_ to leave and you knocked me out. I _do_ know you, and you wouldn't do that."

Dean's eyes went wide in surprise. He stared for a moment before sneering in disgust, "... _that's_ what you're mad about? Jesus, Cas. That was _one_ time. The number of times you've beat the snot out of me." Dean laughed bitterly. "Fuck. Why am I so damn hung up on you? You've beat me bloody, you've betrayed me, you tried to play god, you let monsters older than angels loose on the world, you fucked with Sam's head. You've done all of that and more. Now you're upset that I slugged you one when you threw the demon version of acid in my face before I could explain?"

"Cas, don't listen—" Sam started.

"Don't listen to what?" Dean looked down at the phone with distaste. "It's true. Name one thing that I said that wasn't true."

Sam was quiet. Castiel was too. Dean was right. Dean may have been holding him prisoner and hurt him but it wasn't anywhere near the transgressions he had committed. How could he equate what Dean had done to him to the damage he had done to the _world_ when he had pretended to be god?

"It's true." Dean said, eyes flicking up to look at him. "You did all those things, Cas."

Sam made an angry noise over the phone, "It doesn't matter what Cas did. It matters what you're doing now."

Dean arched an eyebrow at the phone. He looked back to Castiel. "What do you think, Cas? Does it matter?"

Castiel looked down. "It matters."

"It does." Dean said matter-of-fact then his face softened. "I can't forgive you for the things you did to other people, Cas. But I can forgive you for the things you did to me."

" _Why?"_ Castiel found himself saying. It was ludicrous. Dean had held him prisoner for two days, he shouldn't be asking why Dean would ever forgive _him._ But it was something he had wanted for years; forgiveness, and now this demon who looked like Dean was offering it to him.

"Because Cas-" Dean said as a shy smile graced his lips. Dean's face flushed. He looked down. "-you're the one good thing that ever happened to me."

"Cas don't—" Sam started.

"I'll phone you back later, Sam." Dean interrupted. He turned the phone off.

Castiel stared at Dean. It slowly sunk in what Dean was doing, shifting the blame and giving him things he wanted. Dean was right, he had done all those things he had listed but Sam was right too. It didn't matter right now what he had done. It mattered what Dean had done, what Dean was doing. Dean was manipulating him, trying to catch him off guard. Dean was a demon, they could use kindness and forgiveness as a weapon just as effectively as they could use violence.

"Why are you doing this?" Castiel asked.

"Doing what?" Dean asked, looking confused.

"This. Playing this game." Castiel said. He motioned to the motel room. "Keeping me here."

"I'm not keeping you here." Dean said.

Castiel studied Dean's face closely. Dean looked sincere but Dean had looked sincere since he walked into the motel room.

"...so I can go?" Castiel asked hesitantly. Was it a trick? It had to be.

Dean gave him a wry look and chuckled, "Sure, but where ya gonna go, Cas?"

Castiel stood and backed away from the bed. Dean looked at him amused. It made Castiel shiver. "Somewhere very far away from you."

"Oh? Yeah? That so?" Dean said, smirking. He leaned back on the bed, propping himself up with his elbows.

"Yes." Castiel said. He grabbed his bag. His eyes darted around the room for his car keys.

"How far do you think you'll get before some angel picks you off? Or just a regular human up to no good?" Dean mused. He looked Castiel up and down wantonly and smiled slyly. "How far before some demon who's not as nice as me snaps you up?"

"Better that than be here with you." Castiel said. He backed away towards the door. If his keys weren't in his bag he'd hotwire the car. Dean - his chest ached - had shown him how.

Dean smiled and sat back up. "You say that now, but let me tell you about what demons do to humans and you might be singing a different tune."

"I know what demons do." Castiel said. "I pulled you from Hell. I know what they- _you_ are capable of."

Dean tapped his finger on his knee in contemplation. He studied Castiel silently with green eyes that lied about the darkness of Dean's soul. He dug into his pocket and pulled out Castiel's keys. He tossed them to Castiel then made a dismissive gesture. "Alright. Go. Don't come crying to me when something meaner and nastier catches up with you."

Castiel caught the keys and darted for the door. To his relief Dean didn't follow him. He raced to his car and got in. He tore out of the parking lot and drove in a state of shock that was not at all conducive to road safety and awareness. He stopped the car on the side of the road after a half hour. Tears poured out of him. Tears for what had happened and tears for what he had been given and had taken away, all in just two days.

This time being human _was_ different. It was worse.


	2. Kindness

_Through the orbs of all, a thread of wire, impiercing, knits them up, as for the taming of a haggard hawk._

_***_

That something meaner and nastier came two weeks later in the form of vampires drawn to him because he smelt different from other humans.

Castiel was lying in a pool of his own blood when he heard the vampires start to scream. He opened his eyes. The room was dim but he thought that might only be his vision fading out as he died. He drew in a laboured breath. Strong arms wrapped around him.

"I got you, Cas. It's okay."

Castiel woke up in a motel room. Of course he did. He breathed deep. He was warm and comfortable. He could hear Dean nearby - because it had to be Dean - typing at a laptop. He could feel a bandage on his neck. He sat up. His clothes felt too big on him. He looked down and realized he was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants of Dean's. His eyes travelled to his arm. There was an IV needle sticking out of it. He followed the tube to his side and was surprised to see an IV stand and a bag of blood hanging from it. He wondered if he was actually O- or if Dean had just taken the easiest thing.

"Those blood suckers really drained you." Dean said without looking up.

Castiel held up his arm with the IV. "Where did you get this?"

"Stole it." Dean said.

Castiel nodded. He didn't know what else he had expected Dean to say. Castiel moved to get up. He got his feet on the floor but swayed. Dean darted over to him and helped him lay back down as if nothing had happened the last time they were together.

Dean ran a hand through his hair. "Don't get yourself eaten anymore? Ya hear?"

"Why are you doing this?" Castiel asked, pulling away from Dean's touch. He didn't want Dean to touch him, not as a demon at least.

Dean snorted in amusement, "Uh, 'cause you were lunch for some vampires?"

Castiel sat up and gave Dean what he hoped was a look not to be trifled with. "What do you want from me? A way into Heaven? Metatron? I can't give you either."

An odd look passed over Dean's face. He shook his head, "Angels are more trouble than they're worth." He shot a friendly smile at Castiel. "Well, most of them."

Dean sat down on the bed by Castiel's knees. Castiel's heart launched into his throat in fear when Dean ran his hand up his leg. He tensed up waiting for Dean's hand to slide further up his leg but Dean stroked his knee again and then took his hand away.

"Rest up. I'll go rustle up some grub." Dean said, standing. He pet Castiel's leg again. A soft concerned look spread onto Dean's face. "I was...I was really worried about you. Taking off on your own like that. I...uh..." Dean's face flushed. He looked away and gave Castiel's leg a squeeze. "Get better. And don't be a stubborn bastard and get up and fall while I'm gone. Get some R and R. I'll be back in twenty minutes."

Castiel nodded and waited for Dean to go. As soon as he heard the door lock he pushed himself out of the bed. He looked at the IV in his arm. What did he do about that? If he took it out would he keep bleeding? He didn't know much about human medicine. He had always relied on his grace to heal humans. He longed for the fiery warmth of his grace. If he'd had his grace he'd have known Dean was a demon. He wouldn't be here right now.

He started taking the bag of blood off the IV stand but felt his head start to spin. He sat back down and put a hand over the bandage that covered the vampire bite on his neck. If he couldn't stand without getting dizzy how was he going to run away?

He moved up the bed to lean against the wall. He sat quietly and contemplated what a demon might do to a fallen angel while he was incapacitated. The thought made his stomach turn. He shifted around and shoved a hand down the back of his pants. All he felt was warm dry skin.

He leaned back against the wall. Either Dean had simply been taking care of him while he was passed out or Dean had cleaned up after himself. He shivered that he could even wonder about the second option.

Dean came back exactly twenty minutes later with burgers. He smiled brightly and set out dinner. He helped Castiel unwrap everything and held his drink for him. Anything and everything to help. Castiel waited for his eyes to turn black.

Dean talked amicably, telling Castiel about places he had been and diners he had stopped at in the past two weeks. Castiel wondered if Dean had killed the people in those diners too.

"You're quiet." Dean observed. "Feeling okay?"

"I was attacked by vampires." Castiel said. And kidnapped by a demon again. How did Dean think he felt? He sighed to himself, "How's Sam?'

Dean's face darkened. Castiel's chest tightened in fear. He hadn't meant to agitate Dean with his question. Castiel gripped the blankets. What would he do if Dean attacked him? He was an unarmed human half drained by vampires, Dean was a demon. He wouldn't stand a chance.

Dean gave a dejected sigh. The dark look faded away, replaced by hurt. "He won't talk to me."

Castiel wondered if Sam was or had ever been drinking demon blood again or if Dean had said that so he wouldn't try to contact Sam.

"I keep trying to tell him, I got it under control now." Dean said. He slapped his hand down over his arm where the mark would be under his sleeve. "I'd lose it when I was human but now...I can...I can control it. I've got it under control now."

Castiel looked down at Dean's arm. His face drew together in thought and concern. Had he...had what happened before been while Dean _didn't_ have control of the mark? Had he simply crossed paths with Dean while the mark was in control?

"How?" Castiel asked, wary.

"Killing stuff." Dean said. Castiel's eyes went wide. Dean gave him an incredulous look. "Monsters, Cas. Killing monsters."

Castiel stayed quiet. Dean had described humans as the worst kind of monster.

Dean started telling him about the vampires that had almost killed him. Castiel stared, trying his hardest to see any hint of the demon that Dean was or signs that the mark had a hold on Dean's soul. Dean seemed perfectly normal. He had seemed perfectly normal last time too.

Dean scratched at the back of his neck. "And...uh...sorry about your car."

"My car?" Castiel asked, confused.

"I couldn't find it." Dean said. He looked bashfully down at his lap. "I looked around where they had you but..." Dean shrugged. He pointed to the t-shirt Castiel was wearing. "Hope you don't mind borrowing my stuff for now. I didn't want to leave you alone while you were still passed out. I'll pick you up some new stuff tomorrow."

Castiel nodded. What else could he do? He had lost all his worldly possessions to vampires. He was lucky to be alive, even if he was currently trapped with a demon.

He ate his burger, occasionally nodding or adding a comment to Dean's story. He couldn't escape just yet, not until he was well. It would be better to wait until he knew he could get away instead of trying and failing and being caught by Dean.

Three days later Castiel could walk across the motel room without stumbling. He had barely slept in that time except for when his body simply passed out from the exhaustion of losing so much blood. He had refused Dean's help at first but he soon found he couldn't make it to the bathroom without an arm to steady him and if Dean hadn't been the one going out to buy food he would have been starving.

In that time Dean had slept on the other bed - or at least pretended to sleep - and hadn't done more than gently touch his leg or ruffle his hair. Dean didn't mention tying him up and leaving him alone. He didn't mention anything that had happened after. It was almost as if Dean didn't remember. When Dean talked about him leaving he made it sound like he thought Castiel had left because he was a demon— not because he was a demon that had tied him up and raped him.

Castiel was starting to wonder what Dean remembered about those days or if Dean remembered at all. Had he been so strongly under the influence of the mark of Cain that he didn't _know_ what he had done? Had he blocked it out? Dean had invented memories when he had stayed behind in Purgatory. Humans routinely chose a false memory over harsh reality. Was that what Dean was doing? Castiel watched him but couldn't tell.

When he was well enough to leave Castiel stayed. Dean seemed like himself. He wasn't sure if that was more or less worrying but the thought of leaving Dean alone to fight the mark on his own made Castiel feel cold inside. What if he left Dean alone and he lost control and there was no one there to stop him from hurting innocent people? He had told Dean once before that he'd watch over him. He had meant that unconditionally. He'd pause his search for his grace. Dean and the mark was a more pressing matter. And he'd put aside his own hurts for now. What had happened wasn't so bad in the grand scheme of things. He had been atomized before and stabbed and torn at innumerable times. What Dean had done— it hadn't even really been Dean. It was the mark.

And Dean had the mark under control.

Castiel was eating lunch when Dean turned his laptop around. Castiel read the headline, _Coyotes suspected in mauling_. He raised his eyebrows at Dean.

"Think it's a vampire that got away from that nest that had you." Dean explained.

"Oh." Castiel said.

"I, uh, I need to blow some steam off." Dean said, sounding almost embarrassed. "Being cooped up here all week, it's been making the mark act up."

"You need to kill." Castiel said flatly. He set his sandwich down. He had known this was going to happen. Dean had told him this was how he controlled the mark's urges. He didn't have any reason to believe it was a lie. The mark liked killing. It made a dark sense that feeding it in small controlled doses would calm its influences.

Dean looked away. "Yeah."

"Alright." Castiel said.

Dean jerked his head back to look at him surprised. "You...you don't mind?"

"You're a hunter. You've always killed monsters." Castiel said. He had raised Dean from Hell to do just that. " And killing monsters helps you control the mark...?"

Dean nodded, "Yeah."

"Then, I think the saying is, kill two birds with one stone." Castiel said. He picked his sandwich back up. "But I'm coming with you."

"What?" Dean eyes went wide. "You just got on your feet again. You can't go around chasing vampires with a neck wound."

"I'm not going to chase them." Castiel said. He wouldn't, he'd just be there to see for himself that Dean didn't kill anyone else. "I'll stay out of the way."

Dean narrowed his eyes at him, "You don't trust me. You think I'm gonna go all first blade on some people instead of vampires."

Castiel stared at him unspeaking. He _didn't_ trust him. That _was_ why he was going. He might be leaning towards the possibility that Dean was in control but until he saw it for himself he didn't trust him. He might be willing to put himself in danger but he wasn't going to put innocent people in danger. He needed to see and _know_ Dean had control.

Dean stared back for a moment before shrugging, "Fair enough."

Castiel continued eating lunch and Dean went back to his laptop. Castiel wasn't sure if he had made the right choice - free will continued to be hard in practice - but he had made a choice and he was prepared to live with the consequences.

That night Dean declared that they had to wait a few more days for Castiel's neck to heal before they'd track down the vampire. Castiel agreed, he still found he was exhausted by the end of the day. Adding in a potentially dangerous situation to his exhaustion seemed like it would make his already dubious decision an even worse one.

It was four more days of Dean being the Dean he knew so well. Dean that would clap him on the shoulder or laugh when he asked questions about a tv program when Dean thought the answer was obvious. Dean who'd do no more than ruffle his hair occasionally and brush an arm against him in passing. Dean who had gone out and replaced all his clothes after he had lost them to vampires. If the image of Dean snarling against the burn of holy water, eyes black, wasn't burned into Castiel's mind he'd believe it all without doubt. As it was he doubted, but he was finding it easier to believe with each day.

Dean woke him up early the day of the vampire hunt because it was Dean that didn't sleep now. Castiel rolled out of bed fully clothed, unharassed, and unmolested yet again. He watched Dean out of the corner of his eye while he picked out his clothes for the day. Dean still hadn't even so much as implied they'd had any kind of sexual encounter a few weeks ago, good or bad. What if Dean really didn't remember any of it? What if it had _all_ been the mark? What if all Dean remembered was him coming to the motel, finding out he was a demon, then running away?

Castiel took his clothes to the bathroom, casting a glance over at Dean as he went. He closed and locked the bathroom door. He set his clothes down and peeled the bandage off his neck. He looked in the mirror. The bites were scabbed over and the skin was pink and puffy from healing. If he bent his neck too far one way or the other the wound would crack and bleed.

He stared at the bites. Dean had saved him. He had almost died in that vampire nest. He was sure he had been dying, then Dean had appeared, killed the vampires, and rescued him. Dean had even taken care of him after. Would a demon do that? Would someone under the influence of the mark of Cain do that? He wanted to believe it was Dean, the _real_ Dean and not some dark twisted version of him.

But how could it be the real true Dean if he was a demon?

Castiel wrestled with his thoughts while he carefully showered. He didn't want his wound to open and give Dean a reason to declare him unfit to accompany him.

The bathroom door never opened and his things were all exactly how he left them when he stepped back out into the room proper. Dean hadn't tried to slip into the bathroom while he had showered and as far as he could tell Dean hadn't rifled through his things while he wasn't there.

Dean was sitting at the table waiting for him.

"Ready?" Dean asked, looking him over but in a completely benign hunter way; evaluating and filing information. Dean wasn't looking at him suggestively, he was looking at him trying to spot any sign of weakness before a hunt.

"Yes." Castiel said. He picked up his new jacket - it was much like Dean's jacket - and pulled it on.

Dean nodded, "Alright, let's get going."

Castiel followed him out the door to the car. Dean had continued to tell him his own car had been lost to the vampires. Castiel still wasn't sure if he believed him but either way his car was gone.

They stopped for a quick breakfast, entirely for Castiel's benefit but Dean said he still enjoyed eating even if he didn't have to. After Dean drove them to the secluded place he thought the last vampire was hiding.

Dean stopped the car. He looked up at the tumbled down abandoned home. "Stay here. Don't get out of the car. Lock the doors."

"I told you, Dean. I don't have any intention of fighting today." Castiel said. Despite his best efforts his neck wound had started to slowly ooze again. It made going in with Dean all the more unwise. An open neck wound was an open invitation to a vampire.

Dean turned his gaze to him. "Just...be safe. Okay?"

"I will." Castiel said. "I'll be right here."

"And don't let strangers into the car." Dean said, his lips quirking up slightly as he teased.

Castiel rolled his eyes. "I won't let anyone in the car."

Dean smiled at him then turned and pushed the door open. He paused. Before Castiel could react he turned around, slid across the seat, and pressed his lips to Castiel's in a soft kiss. It lasted seconds. Dean pulled away and slipped out of the car closing the door behind him.

Castiel sat frozen to his seat. He watched Dean stalk into the house. He felt cold. He shook with nerves and anxiousness. Did that kiss mean Dean remembered what he did? Had he been living beside someone who knew _exactly_ what he had done to him? Or did Dean think that was their first kiss, stolen before a hunt?

He debated on leaving but Dean had taken the keys. And where would he go? He'd have to walk and they were far from town and any main roads. Dean would find him as soon as he drove down the road and Castiel knew he couldn't survive disappearing into the woods as a human. He didn't know the first thing about sustaining himself without human amenities. He supposed he could try and hotwire the car but...then what? Leave Dean alone under the influence of the mark until he hurt some unsuspecting motorist who offered him a ride into town? He knew first hand what the mark might do. He couldn't condemn an innocent person to that fate just because he was afraid.

Waiting was his only option. But he could arm himself. His own angel blade was gone. He'd asked Dean if he had taken it or knew where it was but Dean had shrugged and said he didn't know. Castiel still hadn't decided if he believed that. It _was_ entirely possible he had lost his blade in Yellowstone National Park. He had been disoriented when he first woke up. And it was quite possible that he had overlooked it in the trunk of his car, in which case it had been lost to the vampires. He might not have his own blade but Dean usually kept two in the trunk.

Castiel had his hand on the door handle when he realized again he'd need the keys and that Dean had them. He sat back in his seat. He couldn't do anything. He had to sit and wait unarmed for Dean to kill the vampire and hope that it would still be Dean when he walked back out. He locked the doors and waited.

He wasn't sure how long it took to kill a vampire but Dean was gone far longer than he thought he should be. Castiel was beginning to worry Dean had slinked away to hurt people while he was left stranded with the car.

Nearly half an hour later Dean stepped out the front door of the decaying house. There was a hard expression on his face and blood splashed across his front. Dean didn't look hurt, but then he wouldn't, he was a demon.

Dean went to the trunk first. Castiel turned in his seat to look in his direction. He heard Dean move some things around in the trunk before he closed it and came around to the driver's side door. He unlocked the door and got in. They sat silently. Castiel eased away to the far corner, still concerned and worried about what that kiss meant. Dean didn't say anything. He simply stared ahead.

"You were gone for some time." Castiel commented quietly.

"Yeah." Dean said, not moving.

Castiel leaned forward to see Dean's face better. The hard look was gone but now Dean's face was blank.

"Was the vampire difficult to kill?" Castiel ventured.

"No." Dean said. He blinked. It seemed to pull him out of his trance. He wiped his hand over his face and rubbed at his jaw. He looked down at his bloodied clothes. He grimaced then looked back up at the house. "Sorry. I just need a few minutes after to...to get right in the head."

Castiel sat back quietly. He wasn't sure what Dean meant by that exactly but it most probably meant Dean was fighting with the mark.

The silence dragged on. Castiel waited, unmoving and unspeaking. Sometime in the mid-afternoon Dean started the car. The further away from the tumbled down house they got and the closer to town they came the more Dean seemed to come to life. The music turned on, Dean sung along quietly under his breath at first then louder. Smiles and laughter came easy to him and they looked and sounded genuine. Castiel wondered if Dean was right, maybe he did have the mark under control now.

Dean stopped at two different restaurants on the way back to their motel room in order to get the _best of the best_ as Dean put it. The best of the best was hamburgers from one restaurant and fries and pie from a different one. Dean insisted that they eat while watching a movie he referred to as _the best western ever made._ It all seemed very Dean.

It put Castiel at ease but made him anxious the moment he stopped to think about it. Was it an act? Dean hadn't mentioned the kiss in the car. Did he remember it? Did the mark have Dean in its clutches then?

The movie finished. Dean stood up and started cleaning up from dinner. Castiel watched him closely. It really did seem as though Dean had the mark under control and it really did seem as though Dean remembered little from what he had done under its influences.

If Dean had it under control, for now at least, it was all the more reason not to leave. If he stayed he could monitor Dean; make sure he only killed monsters. He could help Dean to control the mark. He could make sure what had happened to him didn't happen to anyone else.

But Dean _was_ a demon. It would be dangerous for him to stay. He watched Dean move about the room as if nothing was wrong. He sighed softly. It would be dangerous for him to stay but _someone_ needed to stay and make sure Dean didn't hurt anyone or do anything he couldn't forgive himself for once they found a way to remove the mark of Cain. He knew that once they had removed the mark Dean would have trouble with the guilt of killing all those people in that diner. He didn't want the mark to add anymore guilt to the already enormous burden Dean carried on a day to day basis.

It dawned on him that he had been including Sam in his plans to find a way to remove the mark of Cain but Sam probably didn't even know where he was or if he was alive.

He slid over to the edge of the bed and planted his feet on the ground. This would be the first test to see if it was really Dean in control or if it was the mark. The mark had flared up with violence in the presence of Sam the first time. It would probably be agitated to know someone close by was talking to him.

"Dean, I'd like to borrow your phone." Castiel said. His own phone had been lost when the vampires took his car.

Dean looked at him surprised. He grabbed his phone off the table and tossed it over to him. "Why?"

"I'm going to phone Sam." Castiel said flatly. There was no point in hiding what he was doing. He needed to know if Dean was in control. An in control Dean wouldn't mind if he phoned Sam. The mark likely would.

"Oh." Dean said with a shrug then went back to cleaning up.

Castiel watched Dean carefully. He didn't seem agitated. He stood up and made his way to the door.

"Where're you going?" Dean asked.

"Just outside to the car." Castiel said. He wanted to talk to Sam privately as a precaution.

"What? Why?" Dean asked again. He looked at Castiel suspiciously. "You're not going to take off again are you?"

"No. I'm staying. I'd just prefer to talk outside." Castiel said. He waited to see if Dean would try to stop him but Dean stared at him for a minute before shrugging and turning away. Castiel went outside.

He found Sam in Dean's contacts and was about to press call when he stopped. He looked through the rest of Dean's contacts for anything suspicious. He didn't recognize many names but then he didn't think he would. He hesitated before looking at Dean's call history and his messages. Both were empty.

Castiel looked up at the motel room. He looked back to the phone and dialled a number at random. The number wasn't in service. It didn't matter. It was probably better that way. He hung up and checked the call history. The number was there. That was all that mattered; that there was evidence that he had tried to phone someone other than Sam, evidence that he had lied about what he was doing. It wouldn't upset Dean but he suspected it would provoke a response from the mark. He left the number in the phone and went back to the contact list for Sam's number.

The phone rang twice before Sam picked up. Sam was angry. Apparently he and Dean had been arguing about something previously.

"Sam!" Castiel yelled over Sam's shouting.

"... ** _Cas_** _?"_ Sam said in disbelief.

"Yes." Castiel said.

"Thank god." Sam said in a burst of relief. "I kept phoning but you never answered, then it started going straight to voicemail. I was starting to worry you were dead."

"I'm...well, I'm alive." Castiel said. He touched the bandage on his neck. There was no need to worry Sam about it when they had bigger problems.

"Where are you?" Sam asked quickly. "Can you get to the bunker? I can come pick—"

"I'm with Dean." Castiel interrupted.

Sam sucked in a worried breath, "...can you get away?"

Castiel hesitated before answering, "...I don't think I should. I think I should stay. Watch over him."

"Cas, he's _dangerous_." Sam said, his voice earnest. "Who knows what he'll do next. If you can get away now, **_go_**. I'll come pick you up."

"I know what the danger is, Sam. That's why I should stay." Castiel explained. "He's found a way to keep the mark under control. It's not the most desirable method, it requires him to kill, but he's managing it. If I stay I can make sure that need is directed towards monsters and make sure he doesn't act out the mark's urges on humans."

"Cas..." Sam said. He sounded hurt. "Cas...you can't...you can't _manage_ something like the mark of Cain. We tried that and it didn't work."

"I can handle him. You look for a permanent solution." Castiel said. He could do this. He always watched over Dean. The things that had happened, that hadn't really been Dean. It was the mark. He wouldn't let the mark stop him from caring. "I'll make sure he doesn't do anything he'll regret when he's human again."

"Cas..." Sam said.

"I'll be fine, Sam." Castiel said. "I can do this. You look for a permanent cure and I'll do this."

Sam was quiet for some time before he let out a long sigh. "Alright. But check in every day. A phone call. Anyone could be sending a text."

"I will, Sam." Castiel said.

"Don't do anything stupid." Sam said.

"I'll try." Castiel said. He smiled softly, at least someone was concerned about him.

He told Sam where they were then said his goodbyes. Sam warned him again to not do anything rash. He went back inside to Dean and passed him back his phone.

Dean took it back and set it down on the table. "How's Sam?"

"He was... _agitated_ about you." Castiel said carefully. He studied Dean. He didn't appear to be holding back any violence towards Sam. He seemed genuinely upset that Sam was upset with him.

"Yeah...he's not too happy about me...taking some shore leave." Dean said. He looked at his phone sadly.

Something that had slipped his mind during his phone call with Sam came back to him, "Is Sam drinking demon blood again?"

Dean snapped his head up and gave him a startled look full of fear. "What? Why would‒ you think he sounded funny? Over the phone?"

"No." Castiel watched as that fear washed over Dean. "He sounded fine."

Dean let out a relieved huff. He grabbed at his chest as if he were trying to massage his heart. "Don't do that to me. I'm getting old enough to have heart attacks."

Castiel studied him. The pain on Dean's face looked real.

Dean looked at him confused and concerned. "Why'd you bring that up? What'd he say?"

"Sam didn't say anything." Castiel said. He watched Dean relax a bit. " _You_ told me that you thought he was drinking demon blood."

A strange look went over Dean's face. Dean shook his head. Castiel waited for him to either deny it or confirm it but instead Dean grabbed his phone and went out the door saying he was going to phone Sam.

Castiel pulled a chair closer to the window so he could watch Dean outside and make sure he didn't leave. Dean got into the car and looked down into his lap. Castiel supposed he must be either phoning Sam or checking to see whether he had made any other phone calls, maybe both.

Dean raised the phone to his ear and waited. Whoever Dean had phoned must have picked up because Dean started to talk.

Castiel had fallen asleep at the table by the time Dean came back in. He was woken up by an arm sliding under his legs and hefting him up. He thrashed. A second arm wrapped around him.

"It's okay, Cas. I got you." Dean murmured as he picked Castiel up.

Castiel's eyes snapped open and went wide. He felt panic spread in his chest. What was Dean going to do? Had he miscalculated the mark's response to catching him in a lie? He shouldn't have let his guard down. He shouldn't have fallen asleep until he knew if the danger had passed. He flexed and squirmed trying to get out of Dean's hold. Dean held him tighter.

Dean set him down on his bed and brushed a hand through his hair. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up. You looked wiped out from today."

Castiel's panic filled thoughts ground to a halt. Dean brushed his fingers through his hair again then stepped away to go turn off the lights. In the dark he could just make out Dean going over to the other bed. He could hear the rustle of blankets and creak of springs as Dean stretched out. The room was quiet. Dean didn't move. Castiel started to breathe again.

He waited for something to happen but nothing did. He toed his socks off and got in under the covers in the dark. He'd ask Dean about Sam and demon blood and what he and Sam had talked about tomorrow.

The next morning Dean was adamant he'd never said anything about Sam and demon blood _but_ that now he was worried since Castiel kept bringing it up. Castiel let it drop. Dean really had seemed surprised by it when he had mentioned it. If there was anything Castiel knew Dean would remember it would be if Sam was drinking demon blood. The story must have been a paranoid invention of the mark. If Dean couldn't remember that then it was likely he couldn't remember the other things. It seemed more and more likely that he had indeed crossed paths with Dean when the mark had control and that now, this Dean, was the real Dean in control once more.

They slowly fell into a routine. It would have been strange for most humans but it was normal for hunters. They would spend a few days looking for something suspicious and then go investigate it. Dean taught him how to do an effective internet search and how to apply for credit cards under false names between telling him which movies were important cultural landmarks and why turkey burgers didn't compare to hamburgers.

It was much the way he thought his first time as human would turn out except Sam was only present over the phone.

Sam still didn't particularly want to talk to Dean, so many of his phone calls to Sam were quiet moments alone in the car or standing outside the motel room door.

Dean never asked what they talked about and he never volunteered the information but Dean had to know their topic of conversation was most often what Sam had found that might remove the mark of Cain or ways to at least stop its influence.

There were a lot of things they had silently agreed to not talk about. There was no mention of demon blood or curing Dean of the mark nor the first time Castiel had walked through a motel room door human and exhausted. The longer Dean remained in control the longer he suspected Dean genuinely didn't remember it or, at least, very little of it.

The other thing they didn't talk about was what happened before hunts. They would drive out to the whatever place the monster was using as a lair, Dean would stop the car, and they would sit silently for a few moments before Dean would lean over and press a soft kiss against his lips. Then Dean would push the car door open and go kill a monster to sate the mark.

That was what Dean was doing at the moment, killing a monster. Vampires again. As far as he could tell Dean seemed to be singling out vampires since the incident with those other vampires that had kidnapped him. Castiel thought it might be a bad idea to encourage revenge while Dean had the mark but there hadn't been any other likely cases nearby and Dean had said he _needed_ to go hunting. So Castiel had agreed that Dean could hunt the vampires.

He sat and watched the closed down gas station on an empty road that the vampires were using as their nest. Dean had been gone a while now. Based upon the noises from the various buildings they had previously found monsters in Castiel thought it probably only took Dean about twenty minutes to kill one monster but Dean was usually inside for an hour or two, _getting his head straight_ , as Dean put it.

Movement caught his eye. A vampire was getting away. He waited for Dean to come stalking after it but Dean never came. He pursed his lips and watched it creep around the corner of the gas station. He reached for the machete beside him and opened up the car door.

This wasn't how it usually went. He'd sit and wait and monitor while Dean killed but he couldn't let a monster get away. Especially a vampire. He knew firsthand what a vampire would do to an innocent person.

He picked his way over the empty parking lot as quietly as he could. He rounded the corner where the vampire had disappeared and found himself lurching back as a mouth full of teeth gnashed at his face.

He may not be an angel at the moment but that didn't mean he'd forgotten the ins and outs of fighting. He dodged aside and swung the machete down as the vampire tumbled past him. The metal didn't slice through clean and neat the way it would have if he had the strength of an angel but it did the job.

"Cas?"

Castiel looked up to see Dean staring at him, eyes black and glossy. Castiel couldn't help the jolt of surprise that went through him and the fear that must have been on his face.

Dean looked down and squeezed his eyes closed for a moment before looking back up; eyes green again. "Sorry...you okay?"

Castiel let the tension of the fight drain out of his body and tried to ease his startled nerves. He hadn't seen those black eyes in weeks. He had almost forgotten even though every conversation with Sam over the phone ended with Sam reminding him about what Dean was.

"Yes." Castiel said. He gestured with the machete to the beheaded vampire. "She was getting away."

Dean looked down, nodded, then looked him over. He shrugged his shoulder towards the car. "Come on."

Castiel followed after him. Dean was quiet but he usually was after a hunt. Dean went around to the trunk to change out of his blood spattered clothes. Castiel stopped by the passenger side door and kept his eyes averted. Seeing Dean with less clothes reminded him far too much of that night that Dean didn't remember and he wasn't talking about.

"Cas?" Dean called over.

Castiel glanced up. Dean had pulled on a t-shirt. He was holding up a second one. One of Castiel's.

"You got some...vampire schmutz on ya." Dean said.

Castiel looked down at his shirt. There was a splattering of blood down his front. "Oh."

Dean tossed him the clean shirt. Castiel caught it and set it on the roof of the car. He shucked his jacket and shirt and quickly put on the clean t-shirt. They'd have to find a laundromat later. Castiel was fast realizing that hunters not only frequented bars, they could easily be found in laundromats too.

He handed his bloody clothes to Dean. Dean tossed them in the trunk and closed it. They got in the car and sat silently. Dean's time to _get his head on straight_ after a hunt reminded Castiel greatly of seeking revelation from God. He used the time for quiet contemplation. He wondered what sort of internal war went on in Dean when he sat and stared blankly ahead.

An hour went by before Dean started the car. He was in his normal post-hunt mood, lighthearted and almost playful.

"Hey, you wanna stop at a bar tonight?" Dean asked as he pulled out of the abandoned gas station. "Randy Bachman is buying."

Castiel considered it. Dean was always the most like himself right after they finished a hunt. It would probably be safest to let Dean go now rather than wait for a later time. "Alright."

Dean drove to the next town before he stopped to find a bar. It was the typical unassuming sort of bar Castiel had seen the Winchesters frequent so many times before. Dean ordered them beer.

"It would be... _wise_ to limit yourself." Castiel said as he watched Dean finish his first beer while he was barely even half way through his own. He set his hand on Dean's arm where the mark was and gave him a significant look. A look he hoped conveyed, _be careful, my friend._

Dean glanced down at his hand then back up at Castiel. He seemed to be thinking it over. He ordered a second beer but sipped at when it came. "Yeah. We should probably give moderation a try."

Castiel nodded. He hadn't really meant the both of them but Dean wasn't wrong. He shouldn't consume too much either. He had taken it upon himself to make it his job to watch over Dean and make sure the mark didn't lash out at innocents.

Castiel slowly drank his first beer and watched Dean for any signs of the mark flaring up. Dean's black eyes from earlier had him on guard once again. He realized he had slipped into complacency. He couldn't effectively watch over Dean if he didn't genuinely believe Dean could be a threat to himself and others.

But Dean laughed and thumped him on the shoulder and talked about movies. It was hard to believe that the mark had ever driven Dean to kill innocent humans.

Dean ordered him a second beer when he finished his first despite his attempts at refusing.

"Come on, Cas. What's the point of one beer? You need at least two to _start_ feeling a buzz." Dean said as he pushed the glass closer. "We'll find a motel for the night after. I swear. It'll be the last one for both of us."

Castiel sighed. "Alright."

Dean was right, the second beer came with more of a buzz. He was only halfway through it when he started feeling that odd muddled feeling that went with drinking. By the time he finished it he was feeling dizzy.

He narrowed his eyes down at the glass. "Sh...shhhoudn't've had another."

"Yeah. When'd you turn into a lightweight?" Dean asked, amused. He nudged him in the arm. "Come on, time to find a home for the night."

Castiel nodded but vaguely thought that they shouldn't be driving. He definitely wouldn't trust himself to drive at the moment and Dean had drank more than him... but Dean generally _did_ drink more than most humans.

Dean's arm shot out to steady him as he started tilting off balance.

"Whoa, okay, one beer for you next time." Dean said. He looped one of Castiel's arms around his shoulders and walked him out of the bar. He chuckled, "Use to take a whole liquor store."

Castiel clutched at Dean's shoulder for balance as he walked him to the car. Dean propped him up against the car and opened the door for him.

Dean motioned to the open door. "Alright buddy, in ya go."

Castiel stepped closer to Dean instead and pressed his lips against Dean's the way Dean always did before a hunt. Dean didn't move at first but slowly he leaned into it and kissed back. Castiel pulled away after the brief kiss. A smile and a blush crept onto Castiel's face before he turned away and slumped into the car. Dean made sure he had all his limbs in and his seatbelt on before closing the door.

"Cas." Dean pushed at his shoulder. "Cas. Come on. Time to go to bed."

Castiel forced his eyes open. The world spun. He rolled his head to the front to look out the window. They weren't by the bar anymore. They were in the parking lot of a motel. Castiel squinted at the motel sign. He didn't remember the drive here.

"Riiighh'." Castiel breathed out. He grabbed onto the open door. He pulled himself out of the car and felt like his body wanted to slump back in and maybe never move again.

Dean caught his arm and held him upright. "What's up with you? Sneaking drinks while I wasn't looking?"

Castiel shook his head, which was a mistake. The world seemed to shift under his feet and spin. He grabbed onto Dean's arm to steady himself. He tried to get out the word _moderation_ but it mostly came out as a series of slurred mumblings so he gave up and let Dean guide him into the motel room.

Dean helped him to a bed. Castiel flopped down on it. Dean threw his legs up on the bed for him. Castiel laid still as the room spun. He had never been genuinely drunk as a human before. He didn't know what to make of the odd drifting sensation in his limbs. It was like he wasn't quite attached to his body. It was almost like the sensation of wearing a vessel, a body that he could use but wasn't his.

He gave a sluggish shrug that was supposed to be a jerk away when he felt hands at his waist. He turned his head and tucked his chin in to look down. Dean was working his belt undone. Slowly, fear crept through his chest. It felt just as sluggish and removed as the rest of him. Castiel dragged his leg up to try and kick out at Dean but only succeeded in slightly bending his knee.

Dean put his hands up and spread them, palm up, in a placating gesture. "Hey, I'm just trying to get your pants off— _not like **that**."_

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean and mumbled something that was supposed to sound like, _like what then?_ But came out as, "Whha'thn?"

"You got some vampire on your pants." Dean said. He picked at a spot on Castiel's jeans. "And I think you spilled a good chunk of your beer on them. Just figured you didn't want to sleep in jeans covered in vampire blood and beer. But, ya know." Dean shrugged at him. "If that's your style."

Castiel stared at him, trying to piece together what Dean had said.

Dean's hands slowly drifted back to Castiel's belt. "I'd do it for Sam if he was a mess like this."

"...kay." Castiel said and let his head roll back to the side. His eyes sank shut.

" _Cassss."_ Dean hissed in his ear.

Castiel rolled his head towards Dean. A breath puffed against his ear. Castiel could feel something pressed all along his back. He dragged his arm back to try and touch and investigate but his arm was pushed away. He squeezed his eyes closed and concentrated on breathing. He felt like if he didn't concentrate hard enough on it he might not remember to do it and he needed to breathe because he was human for the time being. Humans did that. Breathe.

"I...Dea-nn?" Castiel asked the darkness around him.

"Shhh. It's fine. You're fine, Cas."

Castiel blinked meaning to nod but his eyelids seemed to be the only part that wanted to listen to him. Even that felt like too much. He drifted off from the rest of himself.

The soft sounds of someone moving around the room dragged Castiel to consciousness. It was not something Castiel came to willingly.

"Hey." Dean tossed a pillow at his head. "You ever gonna get up today?"

Castiel groaned and pulled the blankets over his head. "No."

Dean laughed, "Well, at least you're not as cranky as a hung over human as you were as a hung over angel."

Castiel's eyes slowly worked open. It was late morning judging from the sunlight coming into the room. He squinted against the light. He felt awful. He felt worse than when he had drank to excess as an angel. He supposed that was to be expected since as an angel he had been able to heal himself of the worst parts of a hangover.

"You're looking a little green there." Dean commented.

Castiel broke out in a sweat. He felt his stomach churn. Dean darted over with the plastic waste bin just in time.

Dean rubbed his back as his stomach heaved. When he was done Castiel pulled the blanket over himself and groaned.

"Okay, no more nights out for you unless it's virgin piña coladas." Dean said.

Castiel curled in on his stomach. His heart beat wildly. His breathing was strange and slow. "I feel like I'm dying."

Dean chuckled, "Yeah, a good hangover will do that to you."

Castiel groaned.

"That bad, huh?" Dean said, still sounding amused.

"Yes." Castiel said.

"Poor baby." Dean teased. "Can't hold his liquor."

Castiel's head pounded with each word Dean said. He groaned again, "Please stop talking to me."

Dean snorted in amusement. "Okay, I'm gonna get you some dramamine and advil and a great big greasy breakfast. You want some hair of the dog too?"

"Why would I want dog hair?" Castiel mumbled through the blanket.

"Takes you down slower." Dean said.

Castiel didn't know what Dean was getting at and just groaned again. Dean chuckled at him and told him he'd be back in a half hour.

A few minutes went by before Castiel had to admit to himself that he needed to drag himself out of bed and into the bathroom.

He sat up. His head spun. His stomach lurched unpleasantly but he didn't think he'd throw up again. He got his legs out from under the blankets and his feet on the floor. He could have gone back to bed, exhausted right there.

It took him four false starts before he shoved himself up from the bed. He wobbled to the bathroom. He used the toilet, drank cup after cup of water, then decided that he needed to shower. That was easier said than done.

He shucked off his sweatpants and t-shirt and turned the water on. It took close to fifteen minutes to do just that. He summoned up the energy to step into the shower but that was as much energy he could muster. He sat down in the bathtub with his knees pulled up to his chest and his head resting on top of them. Last night was a blur of spinning memories that only made the dizzy feeling worse.

He felt miserable.

A knock on the door startled him.

"You okay, Cas?" Dean asked through the door. "You've been in there for an hour at least."

Castiel shivered. He hadn't noticed that the water had run cold. "I'm fine."

"Good, because I was thinking we should go out again tonight." Dean said. Castiel could hear the grin at his expense.

"No." Castiel said, shivering.

Dean laughed on the other side of the door.

Castiel turned the water off and grabbed a towel. He wrapped it around his waist then went to the sink to fill up the plastic cup with water again. He stared at himself in the mirror for a moment. His eyes lingered on the silvery scarring on his neck where those vampires Dean had rescued him from had left their mark. He frowned at it and covered it with his hand. His eyes flicked up to look at his face. He looked terrible. His face was pale and his eyes were red and puffy with dark circles around them. He felt exhausted. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

He frowned at the thought of sleep. He'd had nightmares last night; about that night he had found out that the mark of Cain had made Dean a demon once again. He shivered against the memories.

He reached down to the floor for his clothes and pulled them on. Thinking about that night made him feel sick and panicky so he tried not to think about it. It was better to just pull his clothes on so he could feel safe and covered and put the memories out of his head. There was nothing he could do about them now anyway.

He poked his head out of the bathroom to find Dean standing nearby on the phone.

"I'm telling you, he's just hung over." Dean said adamantly into the phone. Dean rolled his eyes. He held the phone out to Castiel. "It's Sam. He's freaking out because you slept in and didn't phone."

Castiel took the phone and sat down on the nearest bed.

"Sam?" Castiel croaked.

"Cas. You okay? You didn't phone this morning." Sam said, sounding worried.

"I'm fine." Castiel said. He whimpered as his head pulsed. "Well, no. I'm hung over."

"...you're really just hung over?" Sam asked, surprised.

"Yes." Castiel said. "It may be surprising to you, but as a human I can't imbibed nearly as much alcohol as I could as an angel."

Dean snickered in the corner.

Sam huffed out a laugh, "Sorry. Hangovers suck."

"They do." Castiel agreed.

Sam asked him a few questions about Dean and gave him an update about the research he was doing. Castiel asked a few questions of his own - what was dog fur supposed to do? - and gave his opinion on the leads Sam had before he said his goodbyes and hung up. He held the phone out for Dean.

Dean reached over and took it back. He waved a hand at the table. "Got breakfast and half a pharmacy."

Castiel looked over at the table. It was all of four feet away.

It was too far.

He felt exhausted. He flopped back onto the bed and groaned. Dean chuckled again and a few moments later was sitting beside him holding out a cup of water and a handful of pills.

"Take your vitamins." Dean said.

Castiel took the cup and pills and tossed the pills into his mouth without question. He swallowed them down. It was only after he had swallowed them that he thought to be concerned. He had just swallowed a handful of unknown pills given to him by a demon.

...but it was Dean. Dean who had rescued him from vampires and took care of him for weeks while he recovered. Dean who had control of the mark.

Dean stood up and leaned over to grab a plastic container off the table. He sat back down with the container in his lap. He started opening it up. "Got you breakfast too. Like I said. Greasy empty calories is what you need."

Castiel sniffed as the smell of bacon, eggs, and hash browns wafted up at him. The pills were abruptly forgotten.

Dean held up the plastic tray. He grinned at Castiel, "I'm hoping this is enough of a bribe to not smite me for getting you wasted when you get your grace back."

Castiel took the tray and the fork that Dean offered. "Perhaps."

Dean chuckled and watched him eat. Castiel was struck at how strange the situation was. It wasn't the first time he had realized their roles were reversed. He ate while Dean watched. He slept while Dean pretended to. He healed painfully slow while Dean barely even noticed being stabbed.

He was yawning by the time he had finished eating. He did feel marginally better now that he had eaten. Dean seemed to be right about grease and empty calories.

"Are we staying here?" Castiel asked through a yawn.

"Yeah. You don't look like you'd stand up to a car ride today." Dean said, nudging him with his elbow playfully.

Castiel leaned away and rubbed at his arm. He gave Dean a mournful look. Dean laughed at his expense. Castiel turned away and sank down to the bed.

"Aw, pouty angel." Dean teased.

Castiel made a noise of disapproval at being called pouty. He was hung over and felt miserable. He wasn't pouting about anything. He pressed his face into the pillow to block out the light and tried to ignore the pain in his head. He did after all only feel _marginally_ better.

A hand in his hair made him tense up. The nightmares from last night jumped into the foreground of his mind. He jerked his head up, Dean's hand quickly pulled away.

"Sorry." Dean said, sounding embarrassed.

Castiel didn't turn around to look. The temptation to let Dean stroke his hair was great. It was relaxing when he pushed away the memories of what the mark had done. It was relaxing when it was Dean sitting nearby and taking care of him. He breathed deeply and squeezed his eyes shut. "No...it's...you can do that."

Dean's hand tentatively went back to Castiel's head. He stroked his hand through his hair gently.

Castiel sighed and felt his body relax. His nightmares from last night faded away. This was Dean. Dean had the mark under control. Slowly Castiel stretched out. Dean kept running his fingers through his hair and massaging his scalp. The pain in Castiel's head seemed to dull. He let out another long breath— which cut short when the blankets rustled and the bed dipped down behind him. He tensed, not sure if he should be frightened.

The hand in his hair swept down his side and wrapped around him pulling him in tight against the warmth of Dean's body. He started humming, the deep vibrations rumbling from his chest. Muscles in Castiel's back that he hadn't even known were tense released and relaxed into those warm vibrations rolling through him from Dean. Dean pressed his nose into the back of Castiel's neck. He breathed deep as if he were scenting him. He let his breath out in a huff that tickled the hair on the back of Castiel's neck.

Castiel hesitated before moving his hand up to cover Dean's hand against his chest. Dean laced their fingers together. A cautious smile threatened to appear on Castiel's lips as he fell asleep feeling safe and warm— if still a little hung over.


	3. Diligence

_No greater grief than to remember days of joy, when misery is at hand._

_***_

Castiel was drifting at the edge of sleep dreaming about that first night with Dean - of what could have been - when he realized his dream was not a dream. His pants had been shoved down to his thighs and his butt was slick as Dean's dick slid between his cheeks.

Was this really happening to him again? It was as if the nightmares from last night were calling out to the mark.

A tremor of fear rocked through his body when Dean's dick pressed against his hole leaving it wet with pre-come.

"Stop." Castiel croaked out barely above a whisper. Dean didn't stop. He tried to pull his hips away but Dean pulled him back each time; timing his thrusts with Castiel's movements, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises. Castiel found Dean's hand on his hip and squeezed his fingers. " _Please,_ Dean. Stop."

Dean's body tensed against his back, his dick still wedged snugly between Castiel's cheeks. Castiel felt his eyes burn with tears. Dean pulled his hips back and loosened his grip on Castiel. Castiel rolled away to the other side of the bed and shook as he yanked his pants back up. How could he be such a fool as to fall asleep beside a demon? To let a _demon_ stroke his hair and wrap an arm around him? What did he _think_ was going to happen?

Dean pulled his own pants back up then reached out slowly to touch Castiel's arm. Castiel jerked away but Dean was persistent. He caught his arm and pulled him closer. Castiel grabbed at the other side of the bed and hooked his leg down on the side of mattress, trying to pull away. It was going to happen again. He was exhausted and hung over, he'd never be able to put up much of a fight, and Dean was a demon while he was human. Dean was stronger than him now. What could he do except hope it wouldn't hurt? He trembled as pained whimpering escaped between his lips.

Dean made quiet shushing noises and rubbed a hand along his stomach. "Cas. Calm down. What's wrong?"

Castiel shivered. Dean was a demon. That was what was wrong. A sob broke out of him. He turned his head away. The day was just full of misery; his body ached from his hangover, he felt bone deep exhausted, and a demon was tenderly rubbing his stomach having just violated him and would probably do it again.

"Cas, I'm not a mind reader. Haven't figured out that trick yet." Dean said. He slipped his hand under Castiel's shirt and kept rubbing in slow circles meant to calm. "So what's up? You were into it and then...? What happened?"

Castiel took in a shaky breath. As much as the source of his panic was Dean, the slow circles he was rubbing into his stomach were steadying his nerves. Dean had stopped. Dean wasn't trying to roll him over and do whatever he wanted. Maybe he could reason with him. Maybe he wouldn't— maybe it wouldn't happen again.

"I'm alright with just kissing, you know." Dean said. He leaned closer and pressed a kiss against Castiel's arm.

Castiel trembled, "I didn't- I- please don't..."

Castiel broke out in another sob. Dean pulled him closer. It only made it worse. The only time Dean touched him was when the mark had him. The only time Dean wanted him was when it wasn't really Dean.

Dean cooed out reassurances. He wouldn't send him away, he had promised after all. He wouldn't send him away even though Castiel kept leaving. But oh God, how Castiel wished Dean _would_ send him away. He wished he had his grace so he could fly away from this nightmare.

It was a while before Castiel managed to gather himself back up and calm down. His distress only made the hangover worse. He pulled away from Dean. This time Dean let him. He sat up. Dean looked up at him with sad understanding.

"Hey, it's okay. I figured we moved too fast last time." Dean said soothingly. He reached out to stroke his hand along Castiel's side. "I kind of tossed out the end of the world speech on ya that night, but we've got time. Right? To take it slow. Don't think you gotta drop your pants and bend over whenever we get close. I'm not gonna ditch you for not putting out."

"I didn't..." Castiel stared at Dean perplexed as what Dean was saying caught up with him.

As upset as he was Dean's words had caught him off guard. He thought back over what else Dean had said. _You were into it? I'm alright with just kissing?_ Castiel's eyes flicked over the sad understanding look on Dean's face. It seemed almost as if...as if Dean didn't understand what had just happened. Was the mark making Dean forget? Warping Dean's sense of reality even now? Or...or had he...had he unintentionally asked for Dean's attentions in his sleep? He'd been dreaming about that first night when things had seemed so hopeful. It had been a very... _active_ dream. Had he pressed back against Dean with some unconscious desire?

"It's okay, Cas. Say what ya gotta say." Dean said. He sat up and set a hand on Castiel's leg. "You still got me."

Castiel stared at Dean. Had he asked for this by accident in his sleep? Or was the mark lying to Dean? Dean had just made a kill. He should have the mark under control.

But an in control Dean wouldn't have tried to take him in his sleep. Maybe he really had asked for this unknowingly in his sleep. Maybe it had just been a mistake. Dean seemed so very concerned for him. The mark wouldn't be concerned. He didn't think it could be.

"Cas?" Dean prompted softly. "Buddy?"

Castiel looked into those green eyes and couldn't see a hint of darkness. That was the problem. This was a demon. But it looked, acted, and talked like Dean. It _was_ Dean. But Dean was a demon. Sam was right to remind him of it each time they talked. It was so easy to look at the demon in front of him and see nothing but Dean. He had let the demon's exterior lull him into a false sense of safety. He felt his heart sink as he thought back to those soft kisses before hunts.

"I can't, Dean." Castiel said. Even if he was sure that Dean was in control of the mark that wasn't cause for celebration. It meant a _demon_ was in control of the mark of Cain. He couldn't have anything he might have hoped to have with Dean right now because this wasn't Dean. This was a demon. "Not with you like this."

"Like what?" Dean asked, confused.

Castiel gave him a sad look, "...a demon."

Dean jerked back. His face was a mix of hurt and disgust. He fixed Castiel with a betrayed look, "So what? Because I'm not human I'm not good enough? You weren't human. I'd still want you if you weren't human."

"It's not that." Castiel said sadly. He didn't care what Dean was as long as it was Dean but this wasn't Dean; not truly. This was Dean twisted into a demon by the mark of Cain.

"Then what?" Dean spat. "You slept with that reaper. Demons aren't good enough?"

Castiel sucked in a wounded breath.

"But you kissed Meg. So it must not be demons. It's just me." Dean shuffled to the other side of the bed looking pained and hurt. He got up and grabbed his jacket. He pulled it on to head outside. "Thanks, good to know."

"Dean." Castiel crawled across the bed and reached over to him but Dean jerked away. Castiel flinched at the sharp movement. His heart raced. He took a deep breath to steady himself. "It's not about that."

"Then what's it about?" Dean snapped. His eyes softened as they travelled across Castiel. His shoulders sank. His head hung down. He took in a deep breath and let out a long defeated sigh, "...I'm not really seeing any other options here, Cas."

"It's about you." Castiel said. Dean's face fell into despair before it was covered up with anger. Castiel got up. He grabbed Dean's shoulders. Dean let him push him down into a chair. "It's about how you're not you right now. Even when you have the mark under control it's still there."

"Yeah, but I'm still _me."_ Dean insisted. "I can feel it there but I'm still me."

"You're not." Castiel said, trying to be gentle. He sat down on the bed across from Dean. "It's twisting your memories and making you do things."

"It's not making me do anything. It's not screwing with my head." Dean said sternly. "I've got it under control. It's fine. I'm fine."

"It is and you're not fine." Castiel said. His eyebrows drew together in pain. He didn't want to bring this up. It would only hurt them both but how else could he make Dean understand how deeply the mark was affecting him? How else was he supposed to show him that the mark was altering how he viewed and remembered the world? He took another steadying breath and stared pointedly at Dean. "Dean, do you remember what happened at that motel we first met at after I became human?"

Dean's face flushed. He nodded, "We...ya know, got to know each other— _biblically."_

Castiel nodded, "Yes, but what else?"

"You left." Dean said sadly. He picked at some imagined thing on his coat sleeve. "You took off the next morning. You said you wouldn't leave anymore but...you _left."_

"Why did I leave?" Castiel asked. It made him feel sicker than his hangover to have to lead Dean through this; to make him remember, or at least understand, what the mark of Cain was doing to him.

Dean stared down at the floor sadly, "You found out I was a demon."

"I was there for two more days after that Dean." Castiel said. He felt the weight of the words pressing down on him. His chest ached with it but he had to say more, "You...you had me tied up and held prisoner for two days. That's why I left."

Dean jerked his head up. " _What?"_

Castiel watched surprise and fear fill Dean's eyes. His stomach churned. He couldn't tell Dean what else had happened. It had been the mark. If Dean didn't remember it there was no reason to tell him that the mark had raped him. It wouldn't help either of them. It would only be one more thing Dean blamed himself for, one more burden for him to bear. He couldn't make Dean live with that horror just to prove a point.

"Cas...I didn't." Dean said. He looked at Castiel, panicked and confused. "...I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't. Not to you."

"You did." Castiel said. Saying it aloud didn't make the weight disappear. If anything it felt heavier. "That's why I left."

Dean stared at him blankly for a moment before his face turned cold. "If you didn't want to be with me you could have just said so instead of making stuff up. I'm a big boy, Cas. I can take a little rejection."

"Dean. I'm not rejecting you." Castiel said earnestly. That sad weight grew heavier. He was watching the mark change the details of their conversation in Dean's mind right in front of him. "I'm telling you something is wrong with you and we need to fix it."

"Oh so, you think I'm broken too. Just like Sam keeps saying." Dean said bitterly. He stood up and paced the room like a trapped animal. "And you thought, what? You'd just get a little action in before you fixed me? Before I'd figure it out? Was that whole night just some big act? Just...just a pity fuck for the broken guy?"

Castiel got up and cautiously moved closer. He couldn't let the mark warp that memory for Dean. Not that one. "It wasn't an act. I wanted you. I- I still do. But I didn't realize there was anything wrong with you then and...we can't do that again while you're like this."

Dean laughed coldly. He pointed to the bed. "Then what the hell was that?"

"A misunderstanding." Castiel said. He edged back, regretting his decision to move closer to Dean. There was a wild look in Dean's eyes that made Castiel's heart beat faster and skin prickle with danger. On some basic level his body knew he was in the room with a dangerous predator. "That wasn't—"

"A _misunderstanding?"_ Dean sneered. He stalked towards Castiel. He pointed at the bed again. "Oh Dean, yes, like that. Faster. More. _Right_. **Sure**. A misunderstanding. You were just...just...fucking _using_ me to get off. You think I'm _broken_ and you _used_ me."

"I was _asleep."_ Castiel said. His hands balled into fists. "I didn't mean to do that."  

"Right." Dean said. His steps took on a predatory gait. "Great excuse. Use the broken guy to jack off on and just say it was all an accident. He'll never know, right? He'll never understand how screwed up that is, he's broken."

"I _didn't_ mean to do that, Dean." Castiel said. He hadn't realized how much his dream had bled into reality and he hadn't thought of how events might look with only half the information. He didn't think how easily the mark could twist his words and make it seem like he was hurting Dean. He took in a few deep breaths to stay calm. "It was a mistake."

"A mistake?" Dean's face went red with anger. He gave Castiel a shove. Castiel elbowed him back in reflex. Dean scowled and grabbed his arm and jerked him down intending to connect his knee with Castiel's jaw. Castiel managed to throw himself backwards. They both toppled to the bed. Dean landed on top of him squashing the air out of Castiel's lungs. Dean braced an arm on either side of Castiel's head. Castiel steeled himself for the worst. The mark had Dean in its clutches.

"You just fucking _used_ me and then _left_ because you always _leave!"_ Dean snarled in Castiel's face. "And then I take care of you for weeks and you fucking _use_ me **_again_** _?_ And _I'm_ the mistake?" He clenched his jaw. "Is that all you're ever gonna do? Leave me or use me?"

Castiel felt his face go red with rage. Anger for being made a victim. Anger that he hadn't been able to do a single thing about it. Anger that the thing that had used him had worn Dean's face. Anger that it was using Dean's face again. His arm snapped up. He slapped Dean hard across the face. It probably wouldn't hurt a demon but it seemed to shock Dean.

" _Use you?"_ Castiel hissed. He shoved Dean off and slapped him a second time. _"You **raped** me!"_

Dean froze. He stared blankly for a moment before a look of shock passed over his face. He fell back. All the anger that the mark had set boiling under Dean's skin was suddenly gone. Dean looked young and scared. Castiel felt all those millions of years of his existence pile up but this moment weighed him down the most. He slid over to the edge of the bed and looked away. Saying it aloud made it seem worse but seeing that look of shocked innocence on Dean's face hurt so much more. Dean didn't remember. Dean didn't know. It might as well have been another person who had tied him up in that motel room. It had been the mark and he had slapped Dean for it, taken his anger out about it on Dean, shoved that horror onto Dean.

"Fuck. Fuck, I knew I should have backed off after that first kiss." Dean started saying. His voice was full of pain and panic. "You were all nerves and just in that towel and...fuck...if you didn't want to why'd you say it was okay? You didn't have to say okay, Cas."

Castiel almost laughed. Dean was worrying over the _one_ time he had felt safe and wanted. He looked down at his hands in his lap and squeezed his eyes shut in pain. The one time he had _thought_ he was safe and wanted.

"I came onto you right after you were human when you were all...vulnerable and stuff." Dean said plaintively. He made a wounded noise, "How am I any better than that reaper?"

"Well you didn't stab me." Castiel said dryly.

"Don't joke about this." Dean snapped. He got off the bed and started pacing the room. "Fuck...fuck...how do I...god, I'm sorry, Cas."

Castiel let his head lull back. He stared up at the ceiling and wished that praying for guidance would actually get a response. Dean kept pacing the room and muttering apologies. Castiel rubbed at his forehead and motioned for Dean to sit on the opposite bed. "Dean, sit down and let me explain what happened. It wasn't your fault."

"Don't make excuses for me." Dean said. He hesitated before he moved to sit down. "That kind of thing doesn't just get a free pass."

"Dean. You weren't yourself." Castiel said. He was starting to realize there were a million little inconsistencies with Dean's behaviour that should have told him something was wrong that night. "If anything it's my fault. Do you remember Sam phoning?"

Dean frowned. His eyebrows drew together in concentration. "Yeah...he...he told you I was a demon...that's why you left."

"Yes, Sam told me you were a demon." Castiel said. He closed his eyes for a moment. "But I didn't leave. I threw holy water in your face. I think it made the mark flare up. You seemed fine before."

Castiel opened his eyes to find Dean watching him, studying him carefully. Castiel dug his fingers into the blankets on either side of him and clenched them tight. "That first time we— _made love_. What you remember, I wanted that. I still do."

A softer look passed over Dean but the worry and pain was still there.

"But...but after I threw holy water in your face. That was...that wasn't you. You didn't..." Castiel breathed slowly and tried to steel himself to say it again. "It wasn't you that tied me up and..."

Castiel's eyebrows pulled down as he realized he had started breathing rapidly and that his heart was pounding in his chest. It made his headache worse. He wished this had all happened tomorrow when he was feeling better.

"And that's when...that's when it happened." Dean finished. He looked like he might be sick.

"Yes. You seemed... _confused_ about it." Castiel said. He had been Dean's prisoner but Dean hadn't even seemed to understand that. "You had me tied up but...you didn't seem to realize what you were doing, that I didn't want to and couldn't leave."

Dean whimpered and buried his face in his hands. "Cas..."

It took Castiel a moment to realize Dean was crying. Castiel's chest ached watching him. He got up and sat down beside him. He settled an arm around Dean's shoulders but Dean pulled away.

"Dean, it was the mark." Castiel said gently. He knew Dean and Dean wouldn't have done what the mark had done. He should never have told him. He should never have said that in anger.

"But it was still _me._ It was still my body that did that to you." Dean said. He snorted through tears. "Cas, I don't...I thought I had it under control then. I thought I was doing good and- and...oh god, Cas, what if I do it again?"

"I won't let it happen." Castiel said firmly.

Dean shook his head, "You should go. Go to the bunker with Sam where it's safe. From me. Look at what I just did. Look how close I was to losing control again. I was...I might have really hurt you."

Castiel wrapped his arm around him again. Dean let him pull him closer this time. He rested his chin on Dean's head. He wouldn't let the mark stop him from caring. He wouldn't let it drive him away. They had always been stronger together. "I said I would stay."

They spent the next three days in the motel while Castiel recovered from his hangover and Dean tried to come to terms with the knowledge of what had happened. Dean had tried to insist that they get a second room for Castiel's safety but Castiel had argued that if the mark took control someone needed to be close to hand to stop Dean from hurting people. Castiel couldn't very well do that in a different room on the other side of the motel.

The compromise was a devil's trap. They'd move one bed aside at each motel and paint a devil's trap on the floor beneath it. When Castiel was ready for bed Dean would lay down on the other one, trapping himself. And even though Castiel had insisted on staying in the same room and _knew_ that the devil's trap would hold Dean it had been hard at first for him to sleep at night. He was sleeping a few feet away from the mark. Retroactively he was frightened that he had never thought to make a devil's trap for Dean before, that he had been sleeping entirely unprotected right beside Dean _hoping_ the mark was dormant. Castiel would toss and turn half the night while his brain supplied all the terrors that _might_ have happened before falling asleep. He'd wake up the next morning and free Dean from the devil's trap.

The first blade stayed in the trunk in a new lock box warded against demons. Castiel only let Dean use it when they found a demon since Sam had the demon killing knife and the angel blades Dean normally kept had been lost somewhere along the way. Castiel tried to steer them away from potential demon activity but try as he might about every other week he'd have to take the first blade out and give it to Dean.

The other thing that changed was what happened before a hunt. There were no more brief gentle kisses. Dean would nod and say something in a gruff voice and slam the car door closed. Castiel knew it was for the best. Dean was upset about what he had done under the mark's influence and those kisses had made Castiel forget what Dean was. It was for the best that they stopped but in his heart of hearts he wished they hadn't.

Dean still favoured vampire hunts over others and unfortunately they were often the most convenient to look for. Other monsters required certain moon phases or seasons or someone to summon them. Vampires could be hunted as soon as they found them. Castiel was still concerned that it was an act of revenge and what it might do to the mark but there wasn't much he could do about it.

The days wore on into weeks. His daily phone calls with Sam became shorter each time. Sam wasn't finding anything new and Castiel was managing Dean as best as he could. He hadn't told Sam the reasons for why Dean was suddenly so willing to give up his freedoms. He simply said that they had discussed it and agreed it was the best thing to do. He had already made Dean carry the weight of what happened. He wouldn't make Sam carry that too.

Even with the added precautions sometimes there were accidents. Their last hunt had failed. His research had led them to an empty house. Dean had already been agitated by the mark, they had waited too long to find the next hunt. It wasn't surprising that it lashed out when he discovered they were at the wrong house.

Castiel gently touched his black eye. He should have been more careful. He knew Dean was just barely holding on, trying his best to keep the mark under control. He dialled Sam's number with his new phone and waited.

He had to phone twice before Sam picked up.

"Cas. Hey. Sorry. Couldn't find the phone in all these books." Sam said, sounding tired.

Castiel could agree with Sam's state. He was exhausted. Dean had been difficult to get back into the motel room and once he realized that he had lost a bit of control and attacked him he had broken apart. Castiel had spent most of the night telling Dean he wasn't leaving him, that his personal safety wasn't more important than an innocent person's safety, and that he was still a soldier— a few bruises were nothing compared to some of the angelic injuries he had sustained over the years.

"Have you found anything?" Castiel asked. He rubbed at his forehead. Dried blood flaked away from where the skin had split open. He hadn't had time to shower and see to himself yet.

"No." Sam gave a defeated sigh, "...how's Dean?"

Castiel gave his own defeated sigh, "We had a rough night."

"You okay?" Sam asked, worried.

"Yes. But Dean's having a hard time." Castiel said. He reached over to the rear view mirror and turned it to himself. He sighed again when he saw the state of his eye. "Our hunt was a failure. The mark didn't have an outlet and...well...Dean's in a devil's trap at the moment."

"Where are you?" Sam asked.

"Outside of Lexington Nebraska." Castiel said. He had thought it prudent to leave Lexington after the mark's outburst. Two men fighting in the street had surely drawn someone's attention.

He could hear books and papers being moved and shuffled on the other side of the phone.

"I've got a ghoul hunt in Hays. That's not too far from you, just a straight shoot down one eighty three." Sam said. There were more papers shuffled. "I could ditch the research for a few days and come help."

Castiel hesitated for a moment. He doubted Dean would want Sam to see him in his current state. Dean couldn't calm down enough to get the black out of his eyes but maybe it would be good for him to know others cared for him. He pulled out the road map from the glove box and found Hays. It really wasn't that far.

"Alright." Castiel said. "We'll be there in a few days."

They made arrangements to meet. Sam agreed it might be better if he stayed at a different motel at first considering how the last time went when Dean was a demon. They said their goodbyes then it was just him alone in the car with his bruises. He looked in the rear view mirror again. The bruising around his eye didn't look any better. He sighed. There wasn't much to be done about it except apply ice.

He got out of the car and went into the motel room. Dean was sitting hunched over on the bed with a bottle of whiskey. The whiskey didn't do much for him, at least that was what he said, but it was apparently a soothing and familiar habit.

"Sam found a ghoul hunt for you." Castiel said as he drew nearer the bed.

Dean nodded but wouldn't look up at him.

"I'm going to clean up." Castiel went to his bag and started taking clothes out. "I think I should drive us to the hunt."

"Yeah." Dean said quietly. "...I need sunglasses or something."

Castiel nodded, "I'll clean up then go out for them. I need to eat breakfast as well."

"...you okay?" Dean asked, worried. "I didn't...I didn't get you too good?"

"I'm fine. I'm sure you've had worse while hunting." Castiel said. He looked up from his bag. Dean was looking at him. The black of Dean's eyes made it hard to tell if he was staring at a particular point or if he was looking him over for injury. Castiel had almost gotten used to seeing those black eyes on Dean. They still made his heart pick up speed but they didn't make him want to run anymore. The black eyes didn't take away from the worry on the rest of Dean's face.

Castiel gave him a gentle forgiving look, "I'll be fine, Dean. They're just bruises. I knew I might get a few when I said I'd stay and help you."

Dean looked down. Castiel stepped closer intent on giving Dean a supportive squeeze on the shoulder.

"Don't, Cas." Dean said, not looking up. "I could...the mark's still acting up."

Castiel tried to hide the pain he felt for Dean. It was a throbbing ache in his chest. Here was the man he had rescued from Hell. He had been an angel, the power of Heaven behind him. Dean had been a human soul, with the first claws of Hell sunk in and twisting, but not enough to destroy the goodness in him. Now he was a human and Dean was a demon, how far they had fallen together.

"You'll keep it under control." Castiel said firmly, keeping the worry out of his voice. "You're strong, Dean. Stronger than you think you are."

Dean hunched his shoulders together and turned away. Castiel let out a long sad breath. It seemed like no matter what they did they never truly had the upper hand. Castiel watched Dean for a few moments - Dean's shoulders were tight with worry - before tearing himself away to clean up.

It wasn't so bad. A shower and a cold cloth applied to his eye and he would easily be passable in most public places, the clean clothes helped too.

He went out for breakfast - no one commented about his bruises but a few people stared - and found a pair of sunglasses in the glove box under a road map of Maine. He came back to find Dean sitting exactly as he left him.

"I need to sleep for a few hours before we get on the road." Castiel said. He set the sunglasses down on the table. "Do you need anything?"

Dean shook his head.

"Alright." Castiel said. He sat down and untied his shoes. He toed them off then shrugged out of his jacket. He laid out on the other bed and watched Dean as he fell asleep and worried that Dean might lose himself to the mark; that he might lose Dean to the mark all because he had made a mistake with the research.

Six hours later saw them on the road. Dean was quiet and still blaming himself for what had happened. Castiel tried to entice him into a better mood with one of his tapes but the first one he put in started playing a song about going to Hell on a highway. Castiel turned it off and didn't try again.

Before they arrived in Hays Castiel phoned Sam and asked him to make sure the suspects were ghouls. He could see how greatly the mark was agitating Dean by that point. Dean was barely holding on. He couldn't let Dean succumb to the mark because of his failures at research.

Sam phoned back an hour later and confirmed it. Three ghouls pretending to be the family they had eaten. Sam thought it might be best if he wasn't there to meet them.

Castiel pulled up in front of the house. He checked the address that Sam had texted him again. This was the house. He hoped Sam wasn't wrong because once Dean went in only violence would ensue.

"You said they're ghouls?" Dean asked, sitting up straighter. There was a sharp undertone to Dean's voice.

"Yes. Three of them." Castiel said. He glanced down at Dean's hand. It was flexing like it wanted to hold something; the first blade. Dean's body was craving it. He hoped they hadn't taken too long.

Dean nodded a few times then sat still. Castiel had assumed he would go straight to the trunk for a weapon and then into the house without prompting. It was unusual behaviour for Dean ‒ these days at least ‒ to sit and wait _before_ a hunt.

"I'll get you a weapon from the trunk." Castiel said. He got out and went around to the trunk. He opened it up and pulled open the weapons stash. He looked it over. What would be the best weapon to dispatch ghouls? His eyes landed on one of the machetes. He tucked one into his jacket and closed the trunk.

Dean got out and met him at the front of the car. Castiel discreetly held out the knife. Dean took it and held it down between himself and the car, out of view from passersby. He looked over at the house then to Castiel. "...don't...don't come in looking for me. Just...wait out here."

"Alright." Castiel said. He was a coward for it but he didn't want to go in looking for Dean. He knew whatever Dean did inside that house wasn't really Dean but he still didn't want to see it; the mark using Dean like that.

"You're...still gonna be here after...?" Dean asked, sounding almost shy despite the violence so obviously boiling beneath his skin.

"I'll be here." Castiel said firmly. He would. He would be there for Dean for as long as he could be. The mark wasn't going to drive him away.

Even without the sunglasses on Castiel doubted he would have been able to describe the look on Dean's face. That worried him even more. He watched Dean go up to the house. The door was locked. Dean looked around then broke a pane of glass in the door. A few moments later he had disappeared inside.

"Can we trust him on his own?"

Castiel jumped. He hadn't heard Sam coming up to the car. He eased back and forth from one foot to the other trying to stand comfortably once more while his heart pounded.

Sam let out an apologetic chuckle, "Sorry. Thought you heard me."

"The mark wants to shed blood." Castiel said. He motioned towards the house. "That will be the simplest way to get what it wants."

"And he'll be...well, not _okay_ after but...he'll be able to handle it better?" Sam asked. He looked over at the house. "Because all it did last time was make it worse."

"As a human, yes, but while he's a demon it seems to work." Castiel said. He had hypothesized that it had something to do with demons being naturally inclined towards violence while humans were naturally inclined to avoid it. It had worked while Dean was with Crowley but Dean had said Crowley was careful to always keep him on the cusp of control, not quite enough to truly control the mark but not enough to give into it completely. Crowley did, after all, have a very strong sense of self preservation.

Sam stared at the house thoughtfully for a few moments before turning back to him. It was clear he was worried but they both knew there wasn't much they could do about it.

"It's good to see you, Sam." Castiel said.

Sam pulled him into a hug then held him at arm's length and looked him over. An amused smile played over his face. "So, ditched all the sweaters and purple?"

Castiel picked at his jacket and clothing that was very much like either Winchester would wear. "Dean bought them while I was recovering from the vampire attack. My own things were stolen or lost to them. We never found out what they did with my car."

"Oh...how you holding up from that?" Sam asked. His eyes lingered on the patch of silvery white scarring on Castiel's neck.

"Good. Dean helped me." Castiel said. He fought the urge to cover the scar with his hand. It was the visible reminder that he was no longer an angel.

Sam's eyebrows pulled down in concern. "And the eye?"

"Our troubles from the other night." Castiel said. He touched at the bruising around his eye. It was still obvious but it didn't feel as tender after a few days of driving.

"You're _sure_ you can handle him on your own?" Sam asked, worried.

"We're managing well enough." Castiel said for Sam's comfort as well as his own. A black eye was a small price to pay to keep Dean safe from himself while he was under the influence of the mark of Cain.

"You're sure?" Sam asked again. "Because I thought we were doing good before he lost it in that diner."

"He can control the mark. It was a mistake that led to this." Castiel said firmly as he gestured to his eye. "If our last hunt had been successful everything would have been fine. Even with the mark vying for violence these past few days Dean has shown remarkable restraint."

Sam's eyes flicked over him. The worry in his face didn't let up. "Just be careful, Cas. Remember, he's a demon. He's dangerous."

"I'm aware of what he is." Castiel said. He had been greeted by two black eyes every time Dean took off the sunglasses.

They waited outside the house while Dean placated the mark. After half an hour Sam grew anxious. There hadn't been any noises from the house, whatever Dean had done or was doing wasn't loud enough to draw outside attention. Sam was worried Dean had simply gone in one door and out the other, leaving them waiting and none the wiser.

Castiel shook his head. This part at least didn't worry him. "No. He usually needs some time afterwards to _get his head straight."_

"Get his head straight?" Sam asked.

"I think he's developed his own system of reflective mediation that helps control the mark." Castiel said. He had seen Dean often enough after a hunt. He was quiet; distracted from the outside world. It was obvious he was fighting an internal war with the mark. He assured himself that Dean would win that fight once again.

Dean came out of the house an hour later, his clothes damp and dark in some places where he must have tried to wipe off blood. He froze when he realized Sam was standing with Castiel at the car.

Castiel tensed. He wasn't sure what Dean would do now that he was confronted with Sam. Sam and Dean hadn't talked over the phone much and when they did it was usually an argument. Dean was always torn between anger and sadness when it came to Sam. Castiel thought it was likely an effect of the mark. The mark had driven Dean to attack Sam last time which Dean of course felt guilty about and worried over what he might do this time. The mark on the other hand seemed to enjoy focusing its violence on Sam.

Sam shifted on his feet preparing to run or fight. It was clear that Sam too had concluded that the mark would easily enjoy going after him again.

Dean came up to them slowly. The sunglasses were gone. Dean's eyes were clear and green. Castiel hoped that meant three ghouls were enough to bring the mark under rein.

"Sam..." Dean said. He stopped out of arms reach.

"Dean." Sam said. He didn't step closer.

"...you...ah...how ya been?" Dean asked awkwardly.    

"Alright. You?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. He turned out his arm with the mark and nodded towards the house as if that was answer enough, and honestly it was.

They had a subdued discussion about what to do next. It was agreed they should probably leave the area before someone found the ghouls. Sam looked up restaurants outside of Hays. They chose one to meet up at.

Sam started off down the road to where he had left his car. Dean watched him go, a remorseful look on his face, before getting in the car. Castiel joined Dean in the car a moment later.

"You did well." Castiel said. Dean had taken control of the mark again and even seeing Sam hadn't made it flare up. It made Castiel breathe easier. He hadn't realized how worried he was that maybe this time Dean wouldn't win over the mark and how guilty he felt. It would be his fault if Dean lost control. It had been his research that had led them to an empty house.

"Yeah..." Dean said. He glanced over at Castiel. His face contorted with pain. He reached out and brushed gentle fingers along Castiel's cheekbone just below the bruise. His eyes went wide when he realized what he was doing. He yanked his hand away and looked down. "Sorry."

"It's alright." Castiel said, doing his best to ignore the way his heart swelled. He put the key in the ignition and started to turn it when Dean turned back to him.

"It's just—" Dean cut himself off and shook his head.

Castiel let his hand fall away from the key. "What?"

Dean breathed deeply before answering, "You stayed."

"I said I would." Castiel said.

"Yeah, you did." Dean said with a small sad smile. He looked away again as if it was too much to say to Castiel. "...you stayed...and it was... Keeping it under control was easier‒ well, not _easier_ , but...ya know, not like trying to stop a train with your bare hands."

Castiel felt his chest ache in that now familiar way. He wished there was more he could do to help Dean. "I told you I'd stay, Dean. And I will. You said it first, cursed or not."

Dean ducked his head and mumbled a red-faced thanks.

Castiel drove them to a motel nearby the restaurant Sam had chosen. They checked in and set up the motel room. Dean thought it would be better if he stayed in. Castiel didn't try to persuade him otherwise. If Dean felt better staying at the motel in the devil's trap he wouldn't argue with him. He texted Sam to tell him he'd be meeting up with him without Dean.

So it was he ended up meeting Sam alone at a small restaurant down the street. Sam wasn't hard to spot in the restaurant. Even sitting down he was obviously taller than most everyone else in the establishment.

He slid into the booth opposite Sam.

"Want one?" Sam asked, holding up a bottle of beer.

Castiel shuddered and shook his head. "No thank you."

Sam hid an amused grin, "Hangover that bad, huh?"

"I don't know why you and Dean drink if that's what you get for it." Castiel said. It had been days of feeling miserable and exhausted. It hadn’t been worth a night he could hardly remember.

Sam didn't bother to hide the amused chuckle that escaped him. Castiel sniffed and picked up the menu. Sam shook his head and grinned down at his own menu.

A waiter came and took their orders. Sam watched intently as the waiter left. He looked around the restaurant before carefully picking up a box from beside him and sliding it across the table to Castiel. It was wrapped as if it were a gift.

Castiel stared down at it. It occurred to him suddenly that humans had birthdays and he didn't. He supposed the day he had become human - the day he had torn out his grace in exchange for a human soul - could be considered his birthday but he didn't actually know the exact date or time of when he came into existence. He didn't even know his exact age. Time had felt different when he was younger. All he could say when asked how old he was, was to say _very._

"What is this?" Castiel asked. He ran his fingers over the edges of the box.

Sam leaned closer and whispered, "Demon proof handcuffs and a-" Sam glanced around again then turned back to Castiel. He lowered his voice, "-a gun with devil's traps bullets."

Castiel pushed the box back across the table with one finger. "I'm not going to-" He motioned to the box and the gun presumably inside. "-Dean."

"I hope you don't have to." Sam said. He nudged the box back at Castiel. "But you need to be able to protect yourself."

"I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself." Castiel said.

Sam's eyes flicked over the slowly fading black eye and cut across his forehead. He frowned and spoke softly so no one would overhear, "Then take them to protect other people. What if he loses it again in a place like this?"

"He won't. We're careful‒ _I'm_ careful." Castiel insisted. He looked down at the box. He wouldn't let Dean hurt innocent people. The devil's traps at night and careful monitoring of the urges the mark was inducing kept Dean and everyone else safe. He felt sick at the thought of _shooting_ Dean.

...but he _was_ human now. He could only do so much to keep a demon at bay. He pulled the box closer and slid it off the table. He set it down beside him on the seat. "But you're right. I can't take that risk for others."

Sam nodded and looked down at his beer. He twisted it around on the table, frowning.

"What's wrong?" Castiel asked.

Sam's frown pulled to the side. He gave a disgruntled huff, "He _does_ really seem like Dean when he has it under control." Sam let go of his beer and pushed it aside. "He acts like none of it happened."

"I don't think it's an act." Castiel said. The look of profound pain on Dean's face when he had explained what had happened after he had become human played in his mind's eye. How could that have been an act? Dean had been distraught over what he had done even without any clear memory of it. "I don't think he's fully aware while he's under the mark's influence. He has trouble remembering much of what he's done. He seems... _confused_ quite often."

Sam shook his head sadly, "Cas...be careful. It really _does_ seem like Dean but don't believe anything he says. Dean's said it himself, ninety percent of anything he says is crap. It's probably closer to one hundred percent now that he's a demon." He gave Castiel an earnest look. "I wanna believe it too, Cas, that he's got this under control. That it's the real Dean but look at what he did to you. Would the real Dean do that?"

Castiel couldn't help his huff of amusement.

Sam looked at him bewildered.

"The real Dean stabbed me in a barn when we first met and has punched me in the face numerous times since then." Castiel said. It was strange that neither Winchester seemed to remember the number of times they had been violent with him now that he was human. They routinely hit each other too. Why did they think he couldn't withstand the violence typical in their lives?

"It's not the same." Sam said.

Castiel shook his head, "Sam, I've been a soldier for a very long time. I know how to..." He searched for the correct words. "... _roll with the punches."_


	4. Temperance

_These are yet blacker spirits. Various crimes have sunk them deeper in the dark abyss. If thou so far descendest, thou mayst see them._

_***_

Castiel could see it. Not with grace or a spell but physically see it as Dean walked through the grocery store. There was a certain slink to Dean's walk when the mark was acting up, something predatory and dark. It reminded him of the leviathan when they had crawled around just below the surface of his vessel's skin. Dean had helped him then. He had talked him into giving up the souls of Purgatory. And though it may have ended badly Dean had been there for him; had never doubted that helping him was the right thing to do. He was determined to help Dean as Dean had helped him. He wouldn't let him become a monster as he had, taken over by forces stronger than himself.

"We should drive to Brechin tomorrow." Castiel said as his eyes scanned over the shelf of shampoo. They had been putting a case together for the small town. There were far too many freak accidents happening for them to be accidents. He added a bottle of shampoo to the basket he carried. He found that the one Dean used made his scalp itchy but Dean complained that the one he liked smelled funny. So they bought two different ones.

"I don't need to go yet." Dean said. He tossed two sticks of deodorant into the basket. Dean had told him that he didn't really need deodorant anymore, his body seemed to be in a state of perfect stasis, but he liked the routine. He said it _kept him grounded,_ so they bought two of everything.

Castiel stopped and turned. He looked Dean up and down. His eyes picked up the thousand little clues he had learned that said the mark wanted blood. "We should go tomorrow."

Castiel turned back around and kept moving down the aisle. He heard Dean sigh and fall into step behind him. Another man in the aisle smirked at Dean and coughed out the word _whipped._

"You don't even know the half of it." Dean grumbled behind Castiel.

Somewhere over the past weeks they had slipped into an easy sort of domesticity despite everything that had happened. Castiel had watched enough tv to know that most humans would call how they lived dating. The only part of traditional dating they didn't do was anything involving touch. It was the part Castiel found he craved the most. The human saying about wanting the things you can't have was true.

They drove to Brechin the next day. They sleuthed around the neighbourhood that had seen a suspicious number of misfortunes and talked to families. It turned out to be a nest of changelings. They tracked down the mother. They sat in the car in front of the generic suburban home it was using as its den.

It struck Castiel that monsters seemed to blend in better with humans than he did. Everyone they talked to on the street liked this woman but it was clear people thought he was odd. He wondered if things had turned out differently if he and Dean could have ever lived in a place like this, surrounded by human community. Would people have thought they were too strange? The strange couple no one talked to? Or would they have fit in? With friends and family?

"Cas, I can't go in there alone with kids inside." Dean said, matter of fact.

Castiel nodded. He had been thinking much the same earlier. He didn't want any accidents to happen during this hunt for both the children's and Dean's sake. Dean would never forgive himself if he lost control of the mark around children.

"I'll come. I'll find the children and get them out." Castiel said.

"Sorry." Dean said. He scratched at his neck. "I know you don't like seeing me all black-eyed-killer. _I_ don't like seeing me like that."

"We'll fix you, Dean. This won't be forever." Castiel said firmly. "And _someone_ does need to come inside with you to rescue the children. I'm the best candidate for that since Sam isn't here."

Dean nodded. He looked to the house. He gave the steering wheel a rap with his knuckles. "Alright, let's do this."

They got out and went to the trunk. Dean took one of the homemade flamethrowers while he took out a gun and bolt cutters. Dean closed the trunk and started for the house.

"Kids are probably in the basement." Dean said as they walked up the driveway. "Monsters really like their basement dungeons."

"Right." Castiel said.

"I'll, uh, draw it out for a bit so you can get the kids out before I set the bitch on fire." Dean said. He stopped in front of the door. He turned to Castiel. He gave his arm a squeeze. "Be careful Cas and— and stay away from me. I don't want anything to happen. Take the kids home first and then come back for me."

Castiel's heart raced as Dean dragged his fingers down his arm but in the back of his mind a quiet cold voice reminded him about a motel room and chains. He set his hand on Dean's shoulder. "I'll be fine."

Dean stared into his eyes for a moment then turned away. He grabbed the doorknob and yanked it out of the door. He tossed the doorknob into the bushes. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. Castiel came up beside him. Dean's eyes were blacker than the suburban night. Dean turned and twisted his head around. He seemed to be listening. He breathed in deep.

"Mommy monster is upstairs." Dean whispered. "The kids are in the basement."

Castiel wondered if Dean was using some demonic sense or if being a demon had heightened his sense of hearing. Castiel couldn't hear anything. For him the house was silent except for a ticking clock.

Dean made for the staircase. Castiel searched the lower floor for the basement stairs and found them behind a door in the kitchen. Three steps down he heard Dean laughing somewhere above. He shivered and tried not to listen.

It was clear the monster was keeping the children in the basement from the smell alone. It obviously wasn't doing much to take care of them. He searched for a light switch in the darkness and found it on the last post of the railing. He flicked the light on and sucked in a breath at the sight of six dirty and terrified children crammed into cages.

He coughed at the smell. The monster clearly hadn't been too particular about latrines.

"Are- are you...a policeman?" One of the children asked. "Are you going to save us?"

"Yes, I'm going to save you." Castiel said. He started for the nearest cage. There were two children cowering inside. A crash from upstairs made them jump. Castiel crouched down. "Don't worry about anything you hear. Stay back until I open the door. When you're free stay at the bottom of the stairs and wait for me to free the others."

The children nodded and moved to the back of the cage. Castiel stood up and fit the bolt cutters around the pad lock. He pressed the handles closed. The lock fell away easily. He opened the cage and helped the children out.

In a few minutes he had them all free and huddled at the bottom of the stairs.

"Keep together and follow me." Castiel said. It startled him when one of them grabbed a corner of his jacket. Another one clutched at the fabric of his pants. He tucked the bolt cutters under his arm and reached down to take the child's hand in his own instead. He gave the little fingers a gentle squeeze. "It's alright. I'll make sure you get home."

The child gave a whimper as there was a bang from upstairs. Castiel looked back to make sure all six children were still there then started up the basement stairs. At the top of the stairs he stuck his head out the door and looked around. The kitchen was still empty. There was a thump overhead. He could make out the murmur of Dean's voice. He was grateful he couldn't hear what Dean was saying.

"Alright. This way. Don't listen to anything. Just follow me." Castiel said. He led the gaggle of children to the front door. He pointed to the car. "Go to the car and wait for me there."

The children ran to the car. Castiel stuck his head back inside the house, "Dean! I've got them!"

Dean's deep laughter rumbled down the stairs. Castiel backed out and pulled the door closed as best he could. An inhuman scream ripped out from upstairs. Castiel hurried down the driveway to the children. He opened the car up and got them inside. He didn't wait around.

It didn't take long to drive the children home. They were old enough to know their addresses and were eager to go home. He stopped in front of each house and let the appropriate child out and watched them run up to the door. Once their parents opened the door and they were inside he'd drive on to the next house.

Castiel was filled with the sense of having done something ** _good_** _;_ of having done something right for the world. Researching hunts for Dean always had a sense of duty to them but having saved someone firsthand was so much more rewarding. This was what he should have done as an angel, helped the average human in trouble. It was what all angels should do, help. Something that felt this good had to mean it was right and just.

His phone rang. He answered it. It was Dean of course. Dean told him where he was. Castiel said he'd be there soon.

He found Dean where he said he'd be. He stopped the car beside Dean and waited for him to get in.

Castiel started to tell Dean about how rewarding it was to simply save people without some Heavenly scheme behind it or out of some sense of guilt when Dean cut him off with a kiss. It was like those other ones, quick and gentle, just a press of lips against his own that wasn't seeking anything more.

Dean pulled away. His lip trembled. His fingers dug into his legs. "I'm‒ _fuck_. I'm sorry, Cas."

Castiel's heart hammered. That glowing sense of reward swelled with his feelings for Dean. He leaned closer. He took Dean's face in his hands and kissed him back in the same gentle way. He pulled away slowly, "It's alright."

Cautiously Dean's hands slipped around him, one onto his side, the other up his neck. He angled his head and then they were kissing again, slow and careful, both worried the other would pull away but it went on, deeper and longer, both trying to say things without words. It came to a stop when a passing car honked at them. They both jerked away.

"We shouldn't have‒ **_I_** shouldn't have done that." Dean said. There was a disgusted look on his face that Castiel knew was for himself and what he had done under the influence of the mark. Dean turned away. "Not with what I did to you."

"It wasn't you." Castiel said. He took in a breath and held it. He set his hand on Dean's arm. His heart beat faster. "You're in control of the mark right now?"

"...yeah...I mean, I think so." Dean said bitterly. "But who knows. Maybe it's all just a lie."

"But you're you right now?" Castiel prompted. He knew things hadn't changed, that Dean was still a demon and the mark still warred with Dean for control but that feeling in his chest, that swelling wonderful feeling and knowing they had done something good for the world, made it hard to believe that this was anything but Dean beside him. And dear God how he wanted that. He wanted to share that swelling feeling with Dean.

"Yeah." Dean said. He turned his head a little to look at Castiel. "Yeah. It's me right now."

"Then I'd like to kiss **_you_** again." Castiel said. He shouldn't want to kiss him again. He knew that. There were dangers to getting close to Dean right now. He shouldn't but he did.

Dean studied him carefully. Castiel watched his green eyes flick across his face. They were nothing like the black of a demon's eyes. Dean slowly leaned in closer. It wasn't the kind of kiss Castiel was expecting after the last one. It was another simple press of lips but it still made Castiel's heart race. He had missed these gentle kisses. He had missed getting to touch Dean. He'd had it for a few weeks and then it had been taken away. It was worse knowing what he was missing. It was worse knowing Dean could be gentle and warm and soft when he didn't get to have that. But here, for a moment, it had been given to him again.

Dean eased back into his seat after. He shook his head but there was a lighter look to his face. There was a hint of relief there now. "We...I...don't want to..."

Dean fell silent. Castiel waited for Dean to put his thoughts together. The rational part of him told him he should insist they stop this before it started, that he was acting on the illogical rush of emotion of having saved people. The part of him that felt lighter under Dean's gaze and made his heart race with joy screamed for more.

"...can we do this again? Kiss?" Dean asked. "—we don't have to if you don't want to but...it...it helps...I think...and _knowing_ you're here and hearing you talk about saving people...it makes me feel like me. You make me feel like me."

Castiel felt his chest swell at Dean's words. The part of him that thought he should stop was drowned in a wave of relieved joy. To be able to touch again, to be told it helped Dean be himself and fight the mark, was a wonderful conclusion to having saved people.

"Yes." Castiel smiled. "We can do this again."

Castiel drove them back to the motel. They kissed again before cleaning up. They kissed again before eating dinner. They kissed again before Dean stepped into the devil's trap and Castiel went to sleep for the night. Saving people and kissing the one he loved lulled Castiel off into the kind of peaceful sleep he hadn't had since that second night after he had become human; that first night with Dean when he had felt warm and safe.

It was how they should have done it before. Kisses _after_ a hunt, not before. Kisses when they knew Dean would have the most control over the mark, not when he had the least control, not when they were in the most danger.

If he was very careful he thought that maybe they could have a little of what they might have had before, what they could still have once the mark was gone. Dean was the one to hesitate more often than not but even he eventually admitted that he had missed getting to touch him. They both agreed that nothing more than kissing would happen. It would be too dangerous, too easy for the mark to catch them when they were vulnerable, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to do much more than kiss again after what had happened. Dean felt much the same way.

Helping Dean felt easier after that. Always drawing away when he wanted to touch had made him feel far more anxious about what had happened than being able to lean over and kiss Dean when the mood struck him. Before it had felt like he was always on guard, waiting for some large animal to attack him. Now it felt like Dean. Now it felt like he was simply once more watching over him, trying to protect him from danger.

He knew. He knew what Dean was but they were careful to keep the mark sated while Sam looked for a way to rid Dean of it. He knew but he let himself have those stolen moments with Dean anyway. It wasn't the mark that kissed him gently when they got in the car and it wasn't the mark that kissed him deeply when they were alone in the motel room. It was Dean.

It was Dean that made him pant and squirm against him like he was right now. They were sprawled out on the bed, each on their sides. Castiel had thrown a leg over Dean's legs. Dean had shuffled closer until their hips met and never once let up from kissing him.

Castiel groaned when Dean rocked his hips forward, all that separated them was a few layers of cotton. Dean clamped his lips down on Castiel's mouth as if he could swallow up the noise. He rocked his hips again and let out a groan of his own when Castiel did it back.

Dean kept up a steady pace with his hips. Castiel hooked his leg tighter around Dean. It was all too much and not enough and he should really be careful about being this familiar with a demon even if it was Dean. They had agreed, nothing but kissing...but they weren't _technically_ touching one another except to kiss.

Castiel rolled his hips against Dean's, meeting each thrust forward. Dean made a throaty noise then pressed his weight onto Castiel, rolling him onto his back while Dean rolled on top of him.

Dean ground their hips together as he sucked and nibbled at Castiel's lips and occasionally let up from worrying them to plunge his tongue inside. Castiel wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer. He spread his legs wider letting Dean grind more fully into him. Dean was gently sucking on his tongue when his back arched and his head thrashed back.

" _Dean!"_ Castiel panted. A wave of pleasure washed over him and a wet spot spread through the front of his jeans. Dean rocked his hips more gently. Castiel let out a few more stray sounds of pleasure before his body sunk into the motel bed.

Castiel pulled Dean tighter against him and nuzzled his face into the side of his neck. He felt safe and warm and relaxed. Dean was spread over top of him, softly humming out a half familiar tune and stroking his hair. This was how it was supposed to be with Dean. It was how it had been the first time. Those other times had been the mark and a mistake. They weren't this. They weren't Dean. If his Father still listened this was what he would pray for.

Dean started to shift and roll away.

Castiel wrapped his arms tighter around him, "Don't move."

Dean tensed for a moment then relaxed, his body spreading across Castiel's once more. "Alright. Guess I can lay in the wet spot."

Castiel nodded his head against the side of Dean's neck. He turned and pressed an open mouth kiss against Dean's skin. He breathed deeply and was lulled to sleep by the scent of Dean. Dean didn't smell like sulphur. He didn't smell dark and demonic. Dean smelt warm. Dean smelt like...

"Cas."

Castiel opened his eyes. He blinked a few times as two green eyes came into focus above him. He craned his head up and kissed Dean.

Dean smiled down at him. He stroked his hair. "You fell asleep there for a bit."

"I'm sorry." Castiel said. He made no effort to move or to encourage Dean to move. He couldn't be genuinely sorry for this.

"Don't worry about it, buddy. Just figured you'd want to change out of the crusty jeans before you went to bed for the night." Dean said. He leaned down and kissed the top of Castiel's nose before rolling off him and getting up. "And we need to make a devil's trap for me."

Castiel looked over at the other bed. He had completely forgotten about the devil's trap. He frowned to himself. He shouldn't have gotten so caught up in his own pleasure as to forget about Dean's safety. "I'm sorry."

"Dude. Quit being sorry." Dean said. He grabbed Castiel's bag off the floor and tossed it over onto the bed. "If anyone should be sorry it's me. I didn't mean to, uh," Dean scratched at his nose and hid his face but Castiel caught the look there. Dean was torn between guilt and amusement. "Make you live through the grosser part of the teen years."

Castiel looked down at the front of his pants. He looked back up at Dean. "I don't mind it."

The easy look on Dean's face dissolved. A cautious worried look replaced it. "You...you wanted it though...right? I know we agreed, kissing only, but...that was alright...right?"

"Yes." Castiel said warmly. He wanted it more than he should. He pulled his bag over to himself and picked out a pair of sweatpants for the night. "Despite the need to do laundry now.

Dean let out a soft laugh before going over to the other bed and pushing it aside.

Castiel went to the bathroom to clean up and change. He closed and locked the bathroom door. He shoved his pants off and wet a washcloth with warm water. He sponged and wiped the dried come away from his dick and stomach. His eyebrows pulled down as he thought over what had happened. He had let himself fall asleep underneath Dean. Nothing had happened this time but he couldn't guarantee something wouldn't happen next time.

He couldn't let that happen again. The guilt Dean would feel would be tremendous if the mark flared up in a situation like that. It may have felt nice - _wonderful_ \- but he couldn't put Dean into a situation like that again. It wouldn't be Dean's fault if something happened but Dean would blame himself. Castiel couldn't let him do that. They should stick to their agreement; kissing only. Anything else and apparently he would forget himself and put Dean in potentially risky situations.

He finished cleaning up and pulled on clean clothes. He went back out. Dean was waiting for him with a can of spray paint for the devil's trap and a kiss.

He couldn't let the mark ruin these moments.

They stayed in the motel for most of two weeks before Castiel put together a hunt. Werewolves. It came at the perfect time. Dean was becoming anxious with the mark and the full moon was three days away.

They packed their things and drove two states over to a small farming community that had seen a death once a month for the last three months. Castiel felt a pang of guilt every time he looked at the dates. They hadn't been far from this community when the first death had happened. If somehow they had known they could have stopped it.

There were no motels nearby. Dean drove around until he found an abandoned house. It reminded Castiel of his first time of being human when he had been utterly alone.

"You okay, Cas?" Dean asked, moving pieces of decayed furniture out of the way. It didn't strike Castiel as unsettling anymore to see Dean use the strength he now had.

"I was thinking about the first time I was human." Castiel said. He looked around the abandoned house. They were making the living room their base of operations. "I slept in an abandoned bus once...an angel found me."

"Yeah... I, uh, I know. Me and Sam...we tracked you there." Dean said. His face contorted with regret. He put down the rotted half of a sofa he was carrying like doll furniture. He wiped his hands on his pants then went to Castiel. He pulled him in tight against his chest. "God, Cas, I am so damn _sorry_ I didn't go get you and bring you home...and...you know, for... _after._ I didn't want to send you away."

"I know. You had Sam to think about." Castiel said. He couldn't blame Dean for that once he understood the situation. He had been bitter at being turned out, cast out of the family he thought would take him in, but once he understood what had happened he couldn't be mad. Dean had talked to Gadreel masquerading as Ezekiel because of what _he_ had told Dean. He should have told Dean to be wary of any and all angels.

Dean's embrace turned into a slow lazy kiss. Castiel let himself enjoy it while he could. They wouldn't do this again until Dean was sure he was in control once more. Dean didn't want to risk physical intimacy right before a hunt in case he wasn't as in control as he thought he was. Castiel agreed. Most of his fears had abated but some nights he still dreamed of chains and Dean pressing into him without any care to his pain.

They spent a day and a half pinning down the werewolves' hunting ground and determining how many. Dean thought two or three based upon some sense he couldn't explain to Castiel. They didn't have much time to debate the point. The full moon was that night. Instead, much of their time was spent arguing about where Castiel would be. Dean wanted him to stay at the abandoned house. The abandoned house was less secure than the car and Castiel didn't hesitate to point that out.

Castiel won his point. He'd stay in the car, a gun with silver bullets on hand.

Dean drove them over to the farm house where they thought the werewolves would turn. He parked the car on the side of the road far enough away that it wouldn't be immediately visible from the house.

"Don't you dare get out of the car for anything." Dean said sternly. Castiel could see the hints of the mark stirring beneath Dean's skin. Dean was worried about him but the agitation wasn't Dean worrying about him, it was the mark goading Dean. "I don't care what you hear. You stay in the car."

"I know, Dean." Castiel said as he pulled his jacket tighter around himself against the chill in the air. He squeezed Dean's leg, "And I know the werewolves can't actually do any lasting damage to you but I still don't like to see you get hurt."

"I'll be fine." Dean assured him. He pat the gun in his jacket. He pointed at Castiel, "You packing?"

"Yes." Castiel said. He took out the gun from the shoulder holster under his jacket. "Fully loaded. All silver."

"Good." Dean said. He gave Castiel a pat on the shoulder then opened the car door. Cold air wafted in. He got out only to lean back in, "Stay safe, Cas. I don't know what I'd do without ya."

Castiel watched him walk down the road. When Dean turned down the driveway to the house Castiel had to lean down and squint to make out Dean through the trees with only the moonlight as illumination. He watched until Dean was inside and out of his sights.

He crawled into the passenger seat and shoved his hands into his pockets to keep his fingers warm as the car cooled down. He hated waiting. He had waited for decades at a time as an angel but waiting what would be no more than a few hours as a human felt painfully longer.

But he kept watch and he waited.

It was much harder to focus as a human. Angels didn't get bored but human brains did. Try as he might he could only strictly focus on the house and listen for danger while sitting still for about twenty minutes at a time before his mind started to wander or his eyes went out of focus.

He didn't realize there was a car pulling into the driveway of the house until it had already turned in. He blinked in shock. He heard car doors open and voices carry on the cool breeze in the night. Maybe they would get back in their car and leave.

The doors closed and the voices continued. He swore in English because it was faster than swearing in Enochian. He shoved the door open and started towards the house then stopped himself. He had a gun full of silver bullets for the werewolves but...

But there was a demon inside too. A demon that would be in the throes of the mark of Cain.

Castiel looked over his shoulder to the car. He went to the trunk and got out the gun with the devil's trap bullets. His chest tightened at the thought of shooting Dean with it though he knew it wouldn't kill him. Dean, however, might kill those people if they interrupted him killing the werewolves and he couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let innocent people die and he couldn't let Dean bear yet more guilt. He tucked the second gun into the waist of his pants at the small of his back the way he had seen Dean and Sam do time and time again.

He stalked towards the house listening carefully in case they were wrong about the number of werewolves. The only noises he heard were coming from inside; shouts, growls, and gunfire.

The front door was open. Castiel slipped up next to it and listened. He held the gun with the silver bullets at the ready. The growling had stopped. It didn't necessarily mean the werewolves were all dead but it did mean that Dean was preoccupied with the people who had walked in.

Castiel could hear them talking to each other as Dean taunted them. One of them started an exorcism but abruptly cut short. They must be hunters. Hunters who came looking for werewolves and found a demon.

He stepped inside and followed the sound of Dean's voice down the hall. He tried not to listen to the things Dean was saying. It wasn't really Dean. It was the mark. It was the mark drawing on memories of Hell to threaten a fellow hunter.

Castiel rounded the corner into the kitchen. Three dead werewolves lay at Dean's feet— and one dead human. Dean had the other hunter by the neck, heaving him up to eye level. Eye level with two black eyes.

"Think you can handle that?" Dean asked the choking hunter.

The hunter clawed at the hand around his neck.

"Dean!" Castiel yelled. He raised the gun - _the wrong one_ \- and levelled it at Dean. "Put him down!"

The hunter's struggle was losing its veracity. Dean looked over at Castiel. Two pools of black filled with curiosity. Slowly a smile crept onto Dean's blood spattered face. Dean snapped the hunter's neck and let the body fall to the ground. Castiel's skin crawled at the sounds.

"Thought I told you to stay in the car?" Dean said slyly. He ran a hand through his hair and wiped at the blood on his face. He stepped closer, still smiling. "Couldn't wait that long, huh?"

Castiel lowered the gun and set it down. Silver bullets wouldn't do. He took a step backwards. His hand drifted slowly to the waist of his pants where the gun with the devil's trap bullets sat nestled against his back.

"Didn't like it out there? Couldn't sit in the car _all alone?"_ Dean crooned. He took two steps closer, still smiling, eyes still black. His voice took on a sad sympathetic tone, "Poor Cas, so cold out in the car. All by himself."

Castiel backed up into the next room as his fingers curled around the gun. He drew it out of the waist of his pants. His heart started to race. This wasn't Dean. This was the mark. Everything about the creature in front of him screamed demon. His skin prickled with adrenaline. This wasn't Dean. This was the mark and it was getting closer.

Dean took a step forward. Castiel took one back. He could feel it. On some basic human level he could feel the darkness slithering just below Dean's skin. His chest started to heave in quick breaths. Dean's smile widened. He took another step closer. Castiel stepped back again and into the living room.

"What? Not afraid, are you?" Dean said. He spread his arms, trying to look harmless and unarmed, but those black eyes stared intently at Castiel. "Come on, Cas. I'll warm you up. I'll keep you company."

Castiel only had time to flinch before Dean darted forward and wrapped an arm around his waist. He dropped the gun in surprise. He heard it clatter to the floor but didn't see where it landed. He shoved at Dean's arm and stamped on his foot and tried to pull away.

Dean pulled him closer and ground their hips together. "I can think of so many ways to warm you up. Better than this. Better than coming in your pants like a thirteen year old."

Castiel dug his nails into Dean's flesh and shoved. He tried to squirm out of his grip. A tremor of fear tainted with pleasure swept through him when Dean leaned closer and mouthed at the side of his neck. He tried to jerk his knee up and catch Dean in the groin but Dean had them pressed too tightly together.

He threw his weight backwards and—

Dean let go. Castiel tripped backwards with the force of his own efforts. He crashed to the floor with a thud that shook the living room. His breath went out of him as pain shot up his back from his tailbone. Dean bent down and caught hold of his pant leg.

Castiel kicked and scramble to get to his feet but Dean jerked his feet out from under him. He hit the floor again, this time hard on his knees. He groaned as a stab of pain raced through him, his eyes going out of focus. Dean shoved him forward onto his hands. A second shove had him flat on his stomach huffing wordlessly in pain.

"Really, Cas? Always so quick to roll over for me?" Dean laughed. He dragged him backwards by his hold on Castiel's pant leg. He knelt down, a knee on either side of Castiel's waist. He gave a tug on a belt loop on the back of Castiel's jeans. "I think we can get you warmed up a lot faster without these on."

Castiel's eyes came back into focus. His head was turned to the side, cheek pressed against the cool floor. He was staring under the couch. He blinked in surprise. There was the gun with the devil's trap bullets. There was the gun so very close. He started reaching out for it. His fingers brushed the edge of metal just as Dean bodily flipped him onto his back.

His hands darted out to push and fight, anything to get away. He tried to draw his knees up and kick out but Dean's weight was settled on his legs. He lashed out at Dean, at the black-eyed creature above him grinning with the violence of the mark of Cain.

Dean chuckled out an amused noise, "Keep it up, Cas. Some fight now? Goes perfect with everything else. I like me some _rough_ in my rough and tumble."

He pulled at Castiel's belt, unbuckling it. Castiel craned his head back to look for the gun. He could just see it. It was so close but completely out of reach. He jerked in surprise when Dean yanked at his jeans tearing the button off and pulling the zipper apart. Castiel forgot about the gun in favour of trying to push Dean off him. He gasped when Dean palmed his cock too hard to be anything but painful.

"Like that, angel? Like it when I touch you?" Dean growled. He rocked his own hips against Castiel's leg and pressed harder on his cock. "Because I like it. Love hearing the sounds you make. Like a needy little whore. You just don't know any better."

Dean leaned forward to crush his lips against Castiel's mouth. He pressed down until Castiel's lip split. Castiel whimpered in pain. Dean's tongue flicked out to taste the blood welling up. Dean let out a soft sigh and spoke against his lips, "Million year old virgin, well _recently_ a virgin, you just never learned to hold back, did you?"

Dean sat up abruptly. Castiel startled in shock. He stared up at Dean. Black eyes stared down at him. Castiel didn't think his heart could beat any faster than it already was but Dean smiled down at him and his heart pounded ever faster in his chest.

Dean lifted his weight off Castiel's legs. He flipped him over and shoved him down onto his stomach. The air went out of Castiel with an _oouf_.

Dean yanked Castiel's pants down to mid-thigh. He ran a hand over one mound of Castiel's ass, kneading and squeezing. "Gonna make you scream one way or another."

Castiel caught his breath and opened his eyes. He flicked them up. There was the gun. There was the gun in perfect reach. He brought his hands up as if to push himself up off the ground. Dean shoved him to the floor as he thought he would but instead of fighting back Castiel let his arms flop out to the sides; his right arm sliding under the couch for the gun. He had just grazed it with a touch when Dean jammed a finger deep into his ass. Castiel gasped in pain.

"Come on! Louder than that!" Dean whooped. He pulled his finger out and shoved two in, in its place. Castiel let out a strangled noise. He felt like he was choking with pain. Dean chuckled, "Not a screamer? Well, you will be."

Castiel's chest heaved in pained breaths as Dean's fingers pumped in and out. He clenched his left hand into a fist and dug his finger nails into his palm trying to distract from one pain with another. He whimpered. Dean's fingers were relentless. Through the pain he forced the fingers of his right hand to curl around the gun. He breathed hard through his nose. He'd get one chance. If he missed Dean would pluck the gun from his hands and toss it aside.

"What? Not gonna moan for me?" Dean asked. He shoved his fingers in deep and leaned over Castiel. "You moaned like a whore just grinding against me."

Castiel shivered at the whisper of breath against the back of his neck. His fingers clenched tighter around the gun. He would get one chance to _shoot Dean._ His skin seemed to throb with how fast his heart was beating. _One chance._

Dean pulled his fingers out and sat back up. He landed a painful slap on Castiel's ass before shoving his fingers back in. "Come on, Cas! I gotta know if you're feeling _something!_ Or are you still too angel to feel? That it? Still can't feel like a real boy?" He landed another slap to Castiel's ass with his free hand and shoved his fingers back in up to the first knuckle, "Come _on!_ What's it gonna take for you to _really_ get it up?"

Castiel's face screwed together in pain. He'd get _one chance._ He choked out a handful of words against the pain burning and biting through him, "I want to face you!"

Dean stilled. The merciless pumping of his fingers paused. There was silence for a moment before Dean's fingers pulled out. He leaned over Castiel and nuzzled into the back of his neck. A low chuckle rumbled out of him, "Are you thinking about my big green eyes, Cas? Cause I hate to disappoint if that's what you're looking for."

"No...no...I just want..." Castiel panted as his body recoiled from the pain. A deep ache was pulsing through him. He tightened his grip on the gun. "I want to...I like it better that way. I like watching you."

"I noticed." Dean chuckled. He ran one hand gently up and down Castiel's ass stopping to knead the flesh or slipping his fingers closer to Castiel's aching hole. Dean brushed his fingers over his rim. Castiel flinched in pain. Dean laughed softly. He rolled his hips against Castiel. He pressed his lips close to Castiel's ear, "That's what you want? That's what'll get you going? You want to watch me?"

Castiel nodded the best he could with his face pressed against the floor. "Yes... _please."_

Dean sat up. He tapped his fingers on Castiel's ass but was otherwise still.

Castiel's tried to control his shaky breaths. He trembled on every exhale. He should have paid better attention to the road. He should have stopped those hunters from ever making it to the house. He should have never left the car. He caught his breath, "Please...please, Dean. I...I want to watch you. It's..." Castiel felt sick as he thought the words and repulsed as he said them, "It's like before. Like when I could see your soul."

A soft whimper sounded somewhere above him. As if the words had sunk into Dean on some deeper level, some level that was still Dean and not the mark.

There was a tremor in Dean's voice as he spoke, "You...you wanna see...my soul? ... _now?"_

There was awe in Dean's words, as if he couldn't believe anyone would want to look at his soul now or ever. He gently squeezed Castiel's ass. There was another soft whimper but no words followed.

Castiel was glad he couldn't see Dean's soul at the moment. He was sure it would be bound up in the blood red of the mark; pulsating and throbbing with the taint of Hell. Dean's other hand trailed up his back gently. Castiel kept his grip on the gun. He felt Dean's body sink down and settle on his legs. Castiel tried not to hope that the mark was calming down but the longer Dean was quiet, the more he felt Dean's body relax, the gentler his touches became and Castiel couldn't help but hope.

Dean stroked his hair then let his hand glide down the back of Castiel's neck. He brushed his knuckles against the soft skin there. "You wanna see my soul."

"Yes." Castiel said.

The hand at his neck slid down to his ass. Dean squeezed tightly. "You wanna see my soul while I _fuck_ you?"

"Yes." Castiel shivered as that brief flicker of hope faded.

Dean's fingers clawed into his flesh. Dean leaned down and growled into his ear, "Beg. Beg for it. Beg to watch me while I fuck you."

"Please, Dean. Please let me watch you." Castiel said. He couldn't help but squeeze his eyes shut with pain. His grip on the gun was growing slick as he sweated in fear. What if he missed? What if he took his shot and missed? Dean— _the mark_ , it would rape him again. It would do it with relish and Dean would blame himself when it was _his_ fault for coming in here and he would lose everything he had, maybe everything they _could_ have if it happened again. He didn't know if Dean would be able to trust himself ever again if it happened again. He couldn't miss. He had to be sure he didn't miss. "Please. I want to watch."

Dean sat up and laughed, "Not the best, but I'm sure we can do better with some time. Alright, little angel, I'll let you watch me." His weight shifted off Castiel's legs. He pulled at Castiel's sides and started turning him over. "Let you look into these black eyes as I fuck you raw and—"

Castiel pressed the gun into Dean's chest and pulled the trigger. The sound was deafening. Castiel's ears rung. Dean froze. Castiel scrambled away.

Dean's eyes were wide, his lip trembled, his face was full of pain and disbelief. Only the blackness of his eyes kept Castiel from rushing to his side.

"What...? C- _Cas?"_ Dean trembled. He looked down at his chest. The disbelief turned into a look of heartbroken betrayal. "Cas... Cas, you fucking _shot me!"_

Castiel shook and breathed hard as he hiked up his pants and did his belt back up. He focused on what he had to do and put what had happened out of his head, he didn't have time for it.

"I knew it! I knew I couldn't trust you!" Dean snarled. "I knew you'd do something like this! I haven't been able to trust you since you made that deal with Crowley!"

"You can trust me, Dean." Castiel said, still breathing heavily, still shaking. He trained the gun on Dean. "You can trust me to always look out for you."

"Look out for me?" Dean said, disgusted. "You _shot_ me in the chest. If I were human you would have killed me!"

"If you were human I wouldn't have needed to." Castiel retorted. He looked around the room trying to find inspiration as to how he should proceed. Did he stay and hope no one came looking for the werewolves or hunters? Or did he get Dean away from this place?

"Gonna shoot me again?" Dean asked bitterly. "Gonna put me down like a rabid dog?"

"You know I can't." Castiel said. He couldn't do either. He looked up towards the car as if he could see it through the walls of the house and trees; as if he were still an angel.

"But you would if you could." Dean said sullenly from where he sat frozen by the devil's trap.

"No. Dean..." Castiel sighed. He was talking to the mark. Dean knew he wouldn't hurt him.

Dean let out a defeated huff.

Castiel looked Dean over. The bullet wound had already stopped bleeding. He didn't know if the devil's trap bullet would stay in place indefinitely or if Dean could somehow work it out. He needed to get Dean out of the house and into the demon proof handcuffs before Dean started working out how to move with a devil's trap inside of him. He stepped forward, intent on crouching down to pick Dean up but each step sent a spike of pain through him. He'd never be able to carry Dean like that.

He stopped to think, careful not to let his thoughts slide into what had just happened, and concluded that he'd best find a bed sheet.

"I'll be back. I'm not going far. Don't worry." Castiel told Dean, though he wasn't sure if Dean would find that a comfort or not in his current state.

He went upstairs and into the first bedroom he found. He pulled a heavier flannel sheet off a double bed and brought it back downstairs. He laid it out beside Dean.

Dean looked up at him full of pain and sorrow. "You shot me in the heart."

"I'm sorry." Castiel said. He bent down and hesitantly set his hands on Dean. He cringed, waiting for an explosion of violence. It never came. He let out the breath he had been holding and set his hands more firmly on Dean. He eased him onto the flannel sheet. "I'm sorry this is...less than dignified but it's the best I can do."

"Of course it's the best you can do." Dean seethed. "The only person who's a bigger failure than me is _you."_

Castiel closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Dean went on, Castiel did his best to ignore him. It wasn't Dean. It was the mark. He grabbed the edge of the sheet and started dragging Dean from the house.

The effort it took to move Dean to the car was exhausting, not because Dean was particularly heavy but because every step was full of pain while Dean spat obscenities and threats at him. He heaved Dean into the backseat of the car and wiped the blood from Dean's face with the sheet. Dean's eyes were still blacker than night. He went to the trunk and got out the demon proof handcuffs.

"Where'd you get those?" Dean asked suspiciously as Castiel clicked them into place around Dean's wrists.

Castiel didn't tell him. The last thing he wanted was to aggravate the mark by mentioning Sam. He checked to see if the bullet was still lodged in Dean's chest. It was. He looked up and peered through the trees at the house. He needed to do something about the evidence. Their own blood and finger prints would be everywhere.

"It was Sam, wasn't it?" Dean growled. "Sam, always sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong." He made a disgusted noise. "You should have let me finish him off with the hammer."

"I should have done no such thing." Castiel snapped. He could ignore Dean cursing him and mocking him but he wasn't about to let him suggest he should have let him kill his brother. Castiel knew about killing brothers and the unending guilt that came with it. He'd never wish that upon anyone. He'd never let Dean do it.

Dean was quiet for a moment before laughter bubbled up from him. "Aw, don't tell me you're falling for that protect Sam bullshit too? Fuck. Try to get out on my own for ten fucking minutes and _Sam_ still manages to gigantor his way into my life."

"Quiet. The mark is making you irrational." Castiel said absently. He stared at the house thinking. He needed to destroy the evidence.

...fire. He closed the back door and went around to the driver's side. He got in. He wasn't about to let Dean far out of his sight while he was like this.

He drove up to the house - Dean provided a running commentary about his ability to drive - and parked the car. He got the lighter fluid out of the trunk and one of the homemade flamethrowers Dean kept and went into the house. He doused the bodies in lighter fluid and set them aflame. He picked up the gun with silver bullets then darted into the living room to set the furniture on fire. He dashed out of the house soon after that. He stowed the empty tin and the flamethrower back in the trunk.

"Nice, Cas. Bonfires are so romantic." Dean said, amused from the backseat. "Park the car somewhere we can watch then climb on back here. I think there's a few human traditions we could get up to."

Castiel ignored him as he drove away from the house. Dean's words turned crueler as he realized Castiel wasn't going to answer. He drove straight for the next four hours. Dean couldn't touch him physically so he was doing his best to touch him every other way possible, starting with a detailed list of his failures.

It was a very long list.

Between Dean hypothesizing about whether he deserved to have an immortal soul as a human and lewdly propositioning him again Castiel was beginning to think he'd almost prefer to be assaulted again instead of having to listen to the poisonous words that the mark sent pouring from Dean's mouth with such casual familiarity.

Close to dawn Castiel couldn't stand to be in the car with him one second longer. He stopped at a secluded park. He made sure Dean was still secured then he changed his torn jeans and went to a nearby bench and sat down. Parks had always made him feel a sense of peace. They were small human creations that tried to create order in a universe even his Father must find chaotic these days.

There was no peace for him today.

He leaned forward planting his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. He let tears stream down his face. He hadn't been fast enough to save those two hunters, two people who fought monsters and saved humans. He hadn't been fast enough to stop it. The mark would calm down and Dean would likely remember murdering two fellow hunters.

A sob broke out of him. He had walked into that kitchen with the wrong gun drawn. If he'd had the gun loaded with devil's trap bullets he could have saved at least _one_ of the hunters. He could have saved Dean from that guilt. He had hesitated to draw the gun even as he watched Dean kill that hunter in front of him. Dean had assaulted him— the _mark_ had assaulted him and he had been nearly powerless to stop it even with the gun. He'd thrown caution to the wind, gone in half prepared, let two people die, and let the mark abuse him and Dean once again. More failures for the list Dean was surely still compiling in the car.

He sat and contemplated his newest failures until a dog ran up to him and shoved its nose into his crotch. Castiel pushed the dog back. It wagged its entire back end and pushed at his hand. Castiel acquiesced the dog's desire and scratched at its head.

"Sorry. He took off on me."

Castiel glanced up to see a woman standing over him. "It's alright."

The woman tugged at the dog's collar and clicked a leash on. She studied Castiel's face and frowned. "Rough night?"

"Very." Castiel said wearily.

"Hmm...well, at least it's a nice morning." The woman said. The dog poked its nose back into Castiel's hand. He obliged and scratched behind its ears. The woman took a step back and tugged at the dog's leash. "Hope the rest of your day goes better."

She waved at him. Castiel waved back. She snapped her fingers at the dog. The dog jumped excitedly and the two of them jogged away.

Castiel highly doubted his day would get any better. He got up from the bench and went to the car. He breathed deeply before he opened the back door and bent down to look at Dean.

Dean stared back at him with wet green eyes. His lip trembled, "...Cas? ...what'd I do?"

"It was the mark." Castiel said by way of answer. "Hold on. I need to get the first aid kit from the trunk."

He also needed a moment to himself so he could shake without Dean seeing. The mark had used Dean again and he had to explain it to him. He shook with pain and guilt. He should have been able to stop all this.

When he'd gotten himself under control he opened the trunk and got the first aid kit out. He closed the trunk and went back to Dean. He took the demon proof handcuffs off.

"I know I hurt someone, Cas." Dean said mournfully. "Don't try to hide it or tell me it was the mark. Don't _lie_ to me."

"Two hunters interrupted you." Castiel said as he dug the devil's trap bullet out of Dean's chest. "I should have been a better sentry. I should have stopped them."

"...and I killed them." Dean said. He looked away.

"I tried to stop you." Castiel said. He had tried and failed.

"I...remember you being there." Dean mumbled. He turned his head slowly and looked up at Castiel. "I...did I...did I _hurt_ you?" He hung his head in shame. "I...it felt like I wanted to... _f_ _uck._ I did, didn't I?"

"No." Castiel said. It wasn't a lie. It wasn't Dean that had hurt him.

It was obvious Dean didn't believe him. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, "Fuck. I ruin everything. I break everything I care about." He pulled away from Castiel and got out of the car. "I'm poison."

"You're not poison." Castiel said sternly. "You're a good man."

"No I'm not. I'm not even a man anymore." Dean said bitterly.

Castiel reached out and set a hand on Dean's shoulder. "You are. You're still you. You're still Dean Winchester and you _are_ good."

Dean shook his head and sighed in defeat, "I'm the mark too. I'm not good, Cas. The mark isn't good and I'm the mark."

 _"You **are not** the mark!"_ Castiel snapped. Dean _wasn't_ the mark. If Dean was the mark then it meant Dean had done every terrible thing that had happened and he _knew_ Dean wouldn't do that. Dean wouldn't murder hunters and try to rape his friends. Dean wouldn't threaten Sam's life. Dean wasn't the mark. He couldn't be.

Dean looked at him sadly but let the argument drop.

"I need to eat." Castiel said. He hadn't slept and he wasn't sure if he should trust Dean to drive them to a motel. That left finding a restaurant in order to eat breakfast and consume unhealthy amounts of caffeine so he could stay awake long enough to set up a devil's trap for Dean.

Dean found a food truck in a more public section of the park. Castiel was grateful that he didn't have to drive them somewhere. He was exhausted from the night, mentally and physically. His daily phone call to Sam had been taxing. He thought he'd probably have crashed the car if he'd needed to drive very far in order to find coffee.

Dean ordered four extra large coffees and sandwiches for him and carried them to the car while Castiel followed along at his side barely keeping his eyes open. He sat down on the bench nearby the car and let Dean put a sandwich in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Cas." Dean said quietly. He gripped at his leg and squeezed it gently. "I..." He stopped and shook his head. He took his hand away.

Castiel still wasn't sure what Dean thought happened exactly. He wedged his coffee between his legs. He reached for Dean's chin and gently turned his face back to him. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Dean's. A soft sigh escaped them both. Castiel leaned back but kept his hand where it was. "You didn't hurt me, Dean. What happened wasn't your fault."

Dean pulled away from Castiel's hand. "I'm the one that asked for the mark, Cas. Everything that's happened since then, that's on me."

Castiel started to argue but the dog from earlier bounded back up and set its head in Castiel's lap. Castiel moved his coffee to the bench and pet the dog's head. "You again? You shouldn't run away from you family."

"Friend of yours?" Dean asked. There was a soft smile on his face.

"We met earlier." Castiel said. He looked up, searching for the woman. He caught site of her coming their way. Her eyes were black. Castiel grabbed Dean's arm, "Dean."

Dean jerked his head up. A shadow of loathing rippled across his face. His eyes flicked black as four more demons came up behind the woman. "Cas. Get the blade."

"Crowley's got a bug up his ass about you." The demon wearing the woman called out.

"Well, tell him that bug up his ass is all he's getting. We ain't besties, he can keep the damn Flickr account." Dean retorted. He turned to Castiel and subtly nodded towards the car.

Dean stood and started towards the demon. Castiel stood and started towards the car. The dog followed. He fed the dog a piece of his sandwich then tossed the whole thing into the bushes. The dog chased after it, hopefully it would stay away.

He opened the trunk and pulled out the box warded against demons. He grabbed the first blade and dropped the box to the ground. The first blade felt harmless in his hands. In Dean's hands it would be a nearly unstoppable weapon. His eyes fell on the gun with the devil's trap bullets. He could help Dean with that...but if he used up all the bullets on these demons he wouldn't have any more if he ever needed to stop Dean again. He left the gun with the devil's trap bullets laying in the trunk with the demon proof handcuffs. Neither would help Dean.

Castiel came up behind Dean and put the blade in his hands. Dean's body stiffened. The first contact with the blade always seemed to send a jolt through Dean.

"Get in the car, Cas." Dean said without turning around.

The demons spread out, slowly starting to surround them. One of them sneered about _Dean's pet angel_ before they launched themselves at Dean.

Castiel darted back to the car. He was no help. He didn't have his grace or his blade. He didn't have holy water. The shotguns weren't loaded with rock salt. He couldn't waste devil's trap bullets on them. He didn't stand a chance of finishing an exorcism. He was useless. The best he could do was stay out of the way.

He watched as Dean fought and the demons fell one by one. He very nearly jumped out of the car when he watched one of the demons shove their fingers _into_ Dean's stomach and yank off a strip of flesh. Dean snarled and stabbed the demon through the throat.

Castiel hoped no one came across them. He'd never make it out of the car and to an innocent stranger before a demon got to them— or Dean.

When the last demon fell Dean was left standing in a circle of viscera and blood. Dean turned and looked at him. It wasn't the look of black-eyed curiosity from the night before but it _was_ a black-eyed look.

Castiel shivered realizing his mistake. He was such a fool. He should have gotten the gun with the devil's trap bullets and the demon proof handcuffs out of the trunk when he had got the blade for Dean. Now he was defenseless and alone in the car while Dean stood before him bloody and wrapped up in the mark of Cain. He should have gotten the gun and handcuffs out to use on _Dean_.

Dean started for the car. Castiel felt himself start to tremble. How could he be such a fool? He had _just_ dragged Dean from the scene of a hunt. He knew what the mark would be making Dean think.

Dean yanked the door open. Castiel jumped. Dean stood and stared and breathed hard without a word. Blood splattered his clothes and dripped off his face. Castiel edged away across the bench seat.

"Ca- as." Dean breathed out. He gripped the blade. He leaned into the car.

Castiel crawled backwards until he was on the other side of the car. He got his fingers into the door handle and pulled. He fell out of the car as the door opened. He didn't know where he planned on running to but being in the car with a black-eyed Dean dripping in blood and the mark singing violence didn't seem like a particularly prudent idea to him.

He pulled himself upright and turned around to run. Dean slammed him against the car. The air punched out of his lungs in a huff.

Dean held him hard against the car and kissed him. He ground his hips into Castiel's hips and groaned, "Fuck."

Castiel pushed at him and turned his head away from the kiss. " _Dean."_

Dean's eyes cleared up, green and pure, then the darkness returned only to fade away again. Dean's chest heaved. He watched Castiel as black smoke swirled across his eyes until it faded away to green.

"Dean? Are you... _you?"_ Castiel asked hesitantly. He eased his hand away from Dean's chest. Had Dean fought and won control back from the mark?

"Yeah, Cas." Dean said just barely above a whisper. He trailed his hand down Castiel's arm. He pressed his hips against Castiel's and kept them still. He took in a shaky breath, "Yeah. I'm me. You got me, Cas. That's what you wanted, right? You want me."

Castiel opened his mouth to say yes and remind him that they had agreed to do nothing more than kiss in a last futile attempt to save himself when Dean's eyes turned back into two dark pools under the early morning sun. The darkness swirled in Dean's eyes and faded out again.

Dean reached for the back door and opened it. He pushed Castiel inside. Castiel's heart hammered. Dean had a firm grip on his arm. He couldn't throw himself into the car and scramble out the other door and he couldn't shove Dean aside and run. All he could do was let Dean gently push him down onto the backseat and hope that Dean would win back control from the mark.

"Fuck." Dean swore as he took in Castiel laying sprawled out on the backseat. He settled his knees on either side of Castiel and reached behind himself to pull the door closed. He ran his hands up Castiel's sides and groaned again, "Fuck. Want you so bad. Can I? ...please?"

Castiel sucked in a fearful breath. He was shaking. How had he ended up in this situation twice in less than twenty four hours? How had he let this happen again? He trembled as Dean ran his fingers under his shirt.

"Please, Cas?" Dean pleaded. The darkness faded from his eyes. They looked soft and hopeful.

Castiel swallowed audibly. He felt cold inside but what if he said no and that was enough for the mark to flare up and take what it wanted? He shuffled backwards on his elbows. Dean watched him. Castiel could see it. The mark was writhing just under Dean's skin but...but Dean wasn't revelling in the violence. He wasn't trying to tear him down or tear into him. Dean was fighting the mark but Castiel could see that it wouldn't take much for Dean to lose that fight. One wrong move on his part might send Dean spiraling out of control.

"You make me feel like me." Dean said, eyes still green. He rested his palm on Castiel's chest. "You keep me here. And grounded."

Castiel's heart ached. Maybe...maybe if they...

"Be gentle." Castiel said, voice wavering.

Dean's eyes turned as black as any demon's dark soul. Castiel whimpered realizing the mistake he had just made. He should have said no and calmly told Dean to let him out of the car then get the demon proof handcuffs again.

Dean made soothing noises as he pushed Castiel's jacket off then worked the belt from Castiel's pants, "It's okay. Shhh. I won't hurt you."

Castiel tried to stop shaking. Maybe it was better to guide the mark then let it take however it wanted. Dean might win his fight for control if they both stayed calm. He could do this. He could stay calm for Dean.

Castiel shivered against the cool air when Dean pulled his pants off, pausing briefly to tug his boots off with them. A startled yelp left him when Dean shoved his legs apart and pressed his fingers against his still aching hole.

Castiel hissed in pain. He sat up and started undoing Dean's belt. He knew there were other ways they could do this. He'd never performed oral sex before but he'd much rather do that then have Dean put anything into his ass again today. And maybe this way he could keep control of the situation. Maybe he could let the mark think it had what it wanted but stop it from doing anything too horrible.

Castiel undid Dean's pants. Dean shrugged out of his jacket and pulled off his shirt. Castiel breathed deep. He reached into Dean's pants and grabbed his cock. "We can...I can..."

"Shhh, I'll take care of you." Dean said. He grabbed the bottom of Castiel's shirt and pulled it up, forcing Castiel to let go of Dean's cock. Dean tugged the shirt off him. He pushed Castiel back down to the seat. Castiel resisted and tried to stay sitting up but Dean kept pushing him down, a gentle unstoppable force, until he was on his back. He pulled Castiel's legs up and hunched down between them. Castiel tensed waiting for the wet heat of Dean's mouth around his cock but instead Dean pressed his face to Castiel's hole and licked.

Castiel rocked his hips up in surprise and groaned. Dean pushed him further down the seat and pulled his hips up. He licked and dragged his lips softly over Castiel's hole. The soft touches hurt but soothed at the same time. Dean pushed his legs up towards his chest until Castiel was nearly doubled over himself.

Castiel couldn't help but moan at the pleasure of it all; the wetness that eased the dull ache he'd been feeling all morning. He relaxed into it and let Dean do what he wanted. If this was all the mark wanted to do it wasn't so bad. Maybe Dean had more control than he thought he did.

He heard Dean lewdly lick a finger. He pressed it into him. Castiel flinched. It was too dry. It was too much after what had happened last night. Castiel reached up and set a hand on Dean's arm, "Dean. I can't—"

"Shhh, it's fine. I'll make it good." Dean said. He licked around the finger in Castiel's hole, working it in and out, licking and slicking it up. Castiel grit his teeth and waited for the pain to subside. At least Dean had the mark under enough control to be gentle.

Slowly the pain subsided into something more bearable. It still ached but it was a dull throb instead of a sharp burn. Castiel breathed easier. If this was all the mark was pushing Dean to do they had gotten off easy. Dean would get the mark under control and Castiel would tell him he hadn't hurt him, that he'd wanted this.

And he _did_ want this just not right now, not like this. Not with half a dozen bodies laying dead in front of the car the night after he had failed to protect two hunters from Dean— and Dean and himself from the mark.

He wanted this, but he wanted it with Dean. He wanted to _know_ with certainty that it was Dean and not the mark motivating him to touch him. He'd sensed for years now some strange pressure building up between himself and Dean and he had hoped that one day when the world wasn't falling apart that maybe he would be so bold as to tell Dean how he felt but he had never been certain Dean felt the same way.

Because how could Dean ever feel the same way? Dean had said it himself even if it was the mark. He didn't trust him, not since he had started making deals with Crowley. He couldn't expect Dean to sudden—

" _Dean."_ Castiel warned. Dean was trying to press a second finger into his hole. Dean took his fingers away and pressed his tongue in instead. The tension eased out of Castiel but almost as soon as it did Dean pressed in two fingers. Castiel's mouth fell open in a silent scream of pain.

Dean licked at his fingers as he worked them in. Castiel bore the burning pain for a few seconds more before it was too much. He squirmed back and stretched out his leg trying to get leverage on the seat or the roof, _anywhere_ , and push himself away. He reached back and grabbed at the door and started to pull himself away from Dean's fingers.

Dean yanked his fingers out - Castiel gasped in pain - and dug them into Castiel's hips. He dragged Castiel back towards himself with one hand while the other worked his pants down. Castiel's lungs felt like they were caught in his throat as Dean's cock sprung out hard and leaking. He grabbed at the front seat and tried to pull himself away again.

Dean didn't even seem to notice his thrashing. He simply grabbed his hips, lined them up, and started dragging Castiel back against him.

"Dean‒ I can't do that right‒" Castiel said as he lost his grip on the front seat. He flailed back trying to catch hold of it again. He felt Dean's cock head press against his hole, dry except for pre-come. "Dean it's not wet enough—" Castiel's eyes went wide at the searing pain as Dean shoved the head of his dick in. " ** _Dean_** _!"_

"Love to hear you say my name." Dean said. He stroked a hand down Castiel's leg. "Love it when you're all laid out like this, needy little Slut of the Lord."

Castiel put a hand to Dean's chest and pushed against the solid weight. Dean started pulling at his legs, driving his cock in deeper. Castiel panted in pain, "Dean. Dean‒ hold on. Just wait‒ _Dean!"_

Dean only groaned and pushed in deeper. Castiel's eyes watered in pain. He breathed hard and heavy, taking in air in panicked gasps. He couldn't do this, not after last night. He twisted in Dean's grip and shoved at him and drove his heel into the small of Dean's back. Dean didn't flinch.

Dean pressed in until he was flush against him, every last inch in that Dean could possibly manage. Castiel thrashed against him the whole way.

Dean caught his wrists in one hand and pinned them against the door. He stared down at Castiel, eyes still black. He leaned down and kissed him gentle. Castiel spasmed underneath.

Dean pressed his hips down, holding him still. " ** _Cas_** _."_

Castiel froze at the tone of Dean's voice. That was the mark. There was no mistaking it. He stilled until his body started shaking violently of its own accord. Dean had lost his fight for control. The mark had him alone in the car impaled on Dean's cock. Oh God. He should have told Dean no. He should have known better. He shoved have saved them both from this.

"Cas." Dean said soothingly. He pressed a kiss against Castiel's forehead. "Calm down. You're gonna hurt yourself."

Castiel's chest heaved up and down. He couldn't stop shaking.

"It's okay. It's alright, Cas. Just calm down." Dean crooned. He peppered kisses across Castiel's face. He let go of Castiel's wrists. "It's fine, Cas. You said we could. Shhhh, it's fine. I'll make it good. It'll be good. So good. Just calm down."

This was so much worse than the violence. This...this was _horrible_. This was the mark tempered by soft touches and gentle kisses but it was still the mark. It was still going to hurt him. It was going to kiss him sweet and gentle and talk soothingly like Dean and then it was going to hurt him, hurt them both.

"Dean, _please."_ Castiel begged. He was pleading for this to stop just as much as he was pleading for Dean to regain control. He buried his head into Dean's shoulder and let out a sob. Dean was going to fuck him dry and the mark was telling him nothing was wrong. Tears trickled down his cheeks and pooled against Dean's neck. He clung to the person that would either hurt him or save him and cried, "Dean. I can't. I can't. Please. Please just wait. Just...please. Please sto—"

Dean pulled back and covered his mouth with his own. It wasn't much of a kiss. Dean pressed his tongue in, Castiel sobbed and whimpered around it. Then Dean pulled back from the not-kiss, clapped a hand over Castiel's mouth, and started to roll his hips. If it weren't for the hand over Castiel's mouth most of the park would have heard him scream.    

When Dean was done he dropped down on him. Castiel's body throbbed in pain from head to toe. His throat felt as raw as his hole. He shifted under Dean uncomfortably. Dean didn't move. It was almost as if he'd fallen asleep. But Dean was a demon, he didn't _need_ to sleep, so Castiel wasn't sure if he was sleeping or passed out or simply quietly enjoying the pleasure that he'd taken out of him. He felt Dean's cock slide out of his ass, a trickle of something warm following after it. Castiel didn't know if it was come or blood. He thought it was likely both.

Castiel wasn't sure how long he laid pinned beneath Dean - long enough for the bleeding to stop and the fiery pain to subside into a bone deep ache - before Dean curled into his chest and hummed in contentment.

"You're so damn warm." Dean murmured against his skin.

Castiel flinched at the sound of Dean's voice. Dean snuffled his nose just above Castiel's nipple. A shiver went through him.

Dean squeezed his arms around him. Castiel tensed. Dean looked up, a muddled smile on his lips and a lazy content look in his ever so green eyes.

Then it all dropped away.

"Holy shit. _Cas_. Are you alright?" Dean scrambled up and away from Castiel. He looked around himself, at his bloody clothes tossed to the side and the smears of blood across the backseat; the demons' blood indistinguishable from Castiel's.

Castiel whimpered in pain as his stiff muscles cried out. His legs felt like jelly from being stretched out to the sides for so long. He pushed up and sat back on the other side of the seat as far from Dean - and the mark - as he could get. He cringed as the pain in his ass blossomed bright and new.

"Cas? ...Buddy?" Dean asked, his voice shaking. "Are you...?"

"I'm fine." Castiel said hoarsely. He wasn't. He needed a hot bath and painkillers but hopefully not a hospital. His stomach felt empty but he doubted he'd be able to eat and he needed something to sooth his throat; raw from screaming. And worse, he could barely look at Dean.

Dean's eyes went wide at the sound of Castiel's hoarse voice. He looked Castiel over. He looked at the blood in the car. He looked outside at the bodies of demons. He looked at the mark on his arm. "...where's the blade?"

Castiel flicked his eyes up. Where _was_ the first blade? Dean hadn't had it with him when he pushed him into the car. "I...I don't know."

Dean swore. Castiel flinched. Dean hurriedly pulled up his jeans and yanked his undershirt on then shoved the door open. Castiel watched him look around for the blade among the bodies. He drew his legs up onto the seat and pulled his knees up to his chest. He trembled. He could _barely_ look at Dean, he _couldn't_ look at Dean at all. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to fall apart.

He jumped when Dean came back to the car and opened the driver's door.

" _Fuck."_ Dean swore under his breath. Castiel flinched again. Dean looked at the bodies around the car. He hurried around and closed the trunk then hurried back to the driver's side door. He slid into the seat and turned around to face Castiel. His lips twitched down in a frown but he still held his hand out, "We gotta go, Cas. Toss me the keys. We can't stay here."

Castiel shook as he reached down for his pants. He found the keys in his pocket and passed them to Dean.

Dean caught his hand. Castiel tensed. Dean drew Castiel's hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. "I'm sorry we gotta jet before you're dressed." He pressed another kiss to the back of Castiel's hand. "But a bunch of dead demons means we gotta hightail it out of here before we get picked up for mass murder."

Castiel drew his hand back. Dean started the car. Castiel dressed silently except for the soft gasps of pain he couldn't help. He kept his eyes purposefully away from Dean.

"Bet there were more demons skulking around." Dean said as the car tore down the road. "Bet my bottom dollar that some low level lackey grabbed it and is crawling back to Crowley with it right now."

Castiel felt relief spread in his chest, the blade was _gone_. Maybe with it gone the mark would act out less. He went cold at his thoughts. They needed the blade to remove the mark. If they didn't have the blade Dean was stuck with the mark. They _had_ to get it back. If he wanted Dean back they needed the blade. If they didn't than the mark—

He wouldn't let this happen again.

"We'll summon Crowley." Castiel said as he tied his boots up.

Dean shook his head, "No. I'm gonna get us into the next state and find us a motel and we're gonna patch you up and you're gonna get some sleep."

It was a four hour drive into the next state and another two hours before Dean found a motel that wouldn't look too closely at two unsavoury looking men.

Dean parked the car in the lot and left to check them in. Castiel pushed himself out of the car and staggered to the trunk. He was exhausted: physically, mentally, and emotionally. They had stopped once at a gas station to change and clean up. Dean had bought jerky and chips. Castiel had refused both. He felt too cold and sick to eat. He was running on empty in every way possible. He got the trunk open and took out the first aid kit. His fingers fumbled with the latch but he eventually got it open.

He knew Dean kept antibiotics in the first aid kit out of habit. He searched the contents of the box. His eyes went in and out of focus. His head swam. He picked up a bottle and squinted at a piece of masking tape that was the bottle's label. Dean's neat handwriting told him it was penicillin.

He unscrewed the cap and stared down at the contents. He didn't know how many to take. He took one then screwed the cap back on. He looked over the other bottles that rattled. They were labelled but he didn't know the drug names. He closed the box and set it on top of his bag. He'd have to ask Dean what he should take.

He got his bag and Dean's bag out of the trunk and felt weak with the effort. When Dean returned he was nearly falling asleep leaning against the car. Dean took both bags from Castiel then bent down and scooped Castiel into his arms.

Castiel immediately tried to push away. He couldn't _look_ at Dean for most of the past six hours, having Dean touch him made him feel like he was going to throw up.

Dean held him closer to his chest. He made quiet shushing noises, "I got you, Cas."

"I can walk, Dean." Castiel insisted. He flexed his legs trying to be put down. He didn't want to be so close to Dean right now. He needed some time for the pain to fade, to remember it was the mark, to remember that Dean had been used too. Right now he was just fighting to keep down bile.

"We're on the second floor and the elevator is broken." Dean said as he started for the stairs.

"Put me _down."_ Castiel said sternly.

Dean sighed and put him down. Castiel dragged himself up the stairs one at a time. He could barely stand up, everything hurt, but he would make it up the stairs.

He collapsed half way up.

"Stubborn bastard." Dean muttered as he scooped Castiel back up.

Castiel pushed at him weakly but his limbs and eyes felt heavy. He passed out in utter exhaustion before they even made it to the room.

Castiel woke up after noon the next day. Almost everything hurt and what didn't hurt was stiff. He looked around the room. Their things were laid out but Dean wasn't present. He called out but got no response from the bathroom. Castiel sat up and winced. He looked down at himself. He was still in his clothes from yesterday.

He swung his legs out and planted his feet on the floor. He felt cold. It had nothing to do with the room temperature. He eased out of bed and pulled the blankets back to check for blood. There were a few spots on the pillow from his split lip but otherwise the bed was clean.

At least Dean hadn't severely torn anything internally.

He found his cellphone on the nightstand. There were no missed calls but looking at his call history Sam _had_ phoned. Dean must have answered. He phoned Sam.

"Cas. You okay?" Sam asked anxiously. "Dean said you got knocked around but you didn't mention that yesterday."

"Yes. Sorry. I was rather tired at the time." Castiel said.

"You didn't get bit?" Sam asked.

Castiel wondered what Dean had told Sam.

"...Cas?" Sam prompted.

"No. I'm fine. I wasn't bitten. Just, knocked around as you said." Castiel said. Sam didn't need to know the details of who had _'knocked him around'_. It would only make Sam demand that he abandon Dean and then Dean would be left with no one to help him and the mark would take out its violence on innocent people.

They talked briefly about Sam's progress on ways to remove the mark. Briefly because there was none. Then they said their goodbyes and Castiel was alone in the room again.

He looked around himself. He spotted a note, two white pill bottles, and a glass of water on the table. He hobbled over to it. The note was from Dean of course. He'd gone out to get something for him to eat and bandages. There were instructions at the end of the note. He should take two of each pill.

Castiel reached for the first bottle and unscrewed the cap. He dashed two pills out. He reached for the second bottle and dashed out two more. He had swallowed them down with the water before he thought to check the labels. He read them over. Penicillin and something called _Roxilox._ Castiel didn't know what _Roxilox_ was.

He set the bottles down and went to the bathroom instead of worrying about what he had taken. He turned the light on and closed the bathroom door. He mechanically started to undress. He stared in the mirror at the bruises covering his body before closing his eyes and turning away. It hadn't been Dean. It was the mark that had left him black and blue.

He turned the shower on and was thankful the water pressure was terrible. He didn't think he'd be able to stand a heavier flow than the gentle trickle that was streaming from the shower head. He used the toilet while the water warmed up then carefully stepped into the shower.

The warm water flowed over him, washing away blood that a quick wipe down in a gas station bathroom couldn't remove. He washed himself gently, the washcloth too harsh in some places. He dared to touch his aching hole and hissed in pain when his fingers grazed it. He stepped out of the spray of water and grit his teeth as he pressed a finger into his hole - not too deep - then eased it out to check for blood.

There wasn't any blood readily apparent and none washed away down his leg. He didn't think he was still bleeding. He'd take the antibiotic for a few days and make sure there wasn't any worrying amounts of blood in the toilet when he used the bathroom but if the pain didn't subside in that time he'd go to a hospital. He doubted Dean would like it. Hospitals asked questions. The kind of questions hunters couldn't answer.

By the time he was done in the shower he was starting to feel lightheaded and his limbs felt looser. He realized that the _Roxilox_ must have been a painkiller. There was still a dull all over ache but it didn't feel as intense. His stomach felt queasy though and he wondered if he should have eaten something before taking those pills. People did that. He was sure of it.

He made it as far as pulling on boxers before he crawled back into bed and fell back asleep.

Something nudged at his back. He opened a hazy eye and turned his head. Dean pressed his lips against his neck in an open mouth kiss. Castiel thought he should probably demand that he get out of the bed but he could barely keep his eyes open. Dean slipped his arm around Castiel and pulled him in tight against his chest.

"So fucking scared when I saw you in the house with those werewolves." Dean whispered against his neck. "You were supposed to stay in the car."

Castiel didn't comment on it. He was too tired to care that Dean hadn't been scared, the mark had been amused.

"You shoulda told me they knocked you around like this." Dean said between kisses to his neck and shoulders. "Shoulda told me. We didn't have to make out in the car after."

Castiel fought back a sob. The mark had already blurred the memory for Dean. He was the only one that knew what had happened, the only one that had to carry the guilt of the dead and how the mark had used them.

"Hey, you okay?" Dean asked, pressing his lips to Castiel's ear.

"I'm just tired." Castiel said.

They spent four days at the motel. Castiel would have stayed for two but Dean insisted he rest because every gentle touch from Dean made Castiel flinch. Castiel told him he was just tender from bruises gained during their fight with the werewolves. Dean declared they weren't hunting werewolves again.

Time seemed to drag painfully slow. Castiel barely slept and when he did there were nightmares to greet him. More than once Dean had to wake him up by throwing a pillow at him from within the devil's trap. Dean would ask about his nightmares after. Castiel told him he couldn't explain, that they would only make sense to a creature that could perceive at least twelve different dimensions. But they were easy to explain. They were just too terrible for Castiel to repeat them.

Dean would usually try to make a joke to lighten the mood - usually something about angels being afraid of radio waves - after he woke him up. Castiel would huff out an unconvincing laugh and excuse himself to go shower. He didn't shower though. He'd turn the shower on, grab the towels, and slept on the floor in the bathroom for an hour as far from Dean as he could get. He knew it hadn't truly been Dean but like Dean had said before, it was his body.

When they had gone two weeks without Dean becoming agitated by the mark Castiel started to relax. Maybe it hadn't happened in vain. Maybe it really had grounded Dean in a way violence couldn't.

A third week went by without any of that black slithery look to Dean's gait. Dean was warm and gentle while he wasn't worrying about whether Castiel had slept or not. One night he started stuttering and going red faced about human traditions and an hour later Castiel found himself at a movie theatre holding hands with Dean in the dark. Dean thought he had needed something to cheer him up, it wasn't his fault the werewolves got the upper hand. Castiel had nodded and thanked him.

It was a little more than a month before Dean showed signs of the mark acting up. Castiel didn't know if it had taken so long because of the heavy dose of violence it had received, if their encounter after had genuinely helped to ground Dean, or if it was the lack of the first blade— they hadn't summoned Crowley. Since, as Dean had pointed out, there'd be no time frame for Crowley's appearance. Summoning Crowley would give away their location and Crowley would have all the time he wanted to gather demons to him and attack them. Castiel agreed, it would be better to find him and plan their own attack.

But as far as Dean and the mark went, whichever the reason it had been quiet for so long Castiel was prepared for all possibilities when Dean left to kill a skinwalker. He had the gun with the devil's trap bullets and the demon proof handcuffs beside him and lube and condoms in the glove box.

Dean came back from the hunt far earlier than he normally would. Castiel tucked the gun into the waist of his pants and slipped the handcuffs into his pocket. He got out of the car and waited for Dean to come to him.

Dean's eyes swirled with black, clouding over the green for brief moments before slipping away only to return a second later. Castiel reached behind himself for the gun. Dean came up to him slowly and stopped a foot away. He reached out and trailed his hand down Castiel's arm.

"Can we...?" Dean asked shyly. His eyes more green than black. "...it's...it's quieter after...it's always quieter with you."

A tremor went through Castiel. Dean's eyes flashed black as if the mark could sense his fear. Maybe it could. Maybe it reacted to his fears. If he went forward with confidence maybe it would fade and Dean would have another month before he needed to kill. Maybe he hadn't gone through all that for nothing.

"...if...if you think it helps." Castiel said. His chest tightened. What if it was like last time?

He tried to make himself relax. He had been preparing himself for this for the last week when he realized how long it had been since he had seen the mark affect Dean. As much as it terrified him what if Dean was right? What if _being together_ quieted the mark in a way violence couldn't?

What if it wasn't violence that calmed the mark but love? Love for his brother had allowed Sam to fight against Lucifer. What if love would allow Dean to fight against the mark? He knew Dean was a physical person, to him actions spoke louder than words. What if being intimate as an expression of love helped? What had happened before had been an act of self-sacrifice, that was love and it had calmed the mark for over a month.

Dean studied him, his eyes still swirling back and forth from green to black. Castiel still flinched sometimes when Dean touched him.

"We don't have to. I can go sit on my own for a while." Dean said gently. "We don't have to if you don't want to."

"I want to." Castiel said with what he hoped sounded like confidence. It wouldn't be like last time because he was prepared. He would stay calm. The mark would stay calm. It would be Dean. It would be Dean and they would get another entire month where they didn't have to worry about the mark because Dean would know on some basic level, even if he didn't remember, that he was loved.

Dean leaned forward and kissed him. There was no hint of the mark. Castiel shivered and tried to relax. He could do this. He could show Dean - and the mark - that he was loved despite every ounce of guilt Dean carried.

"Get in the back." Castiel said once Dean's hands started to wander.

"Hmm. Orders. I like it." Dean said, grinning. He broke away and pulled open the back door.

Castiel climbed back into the front seat. He opened the glove box and switched out the gun for the condoms and lube. He closed it up and joined Dean in the backseat.

Dean was already naked.

Castiel reached into his pocket for the handcuffs. He had prepared himself as best he could to do this but he wasn't going to be a fool about it. He held the handcuffs out to Dean, "Put these on."

Dean eyed the handcuffs for a moment. His eyes went solid black. Castiel's heart hammered. Had he just agitated the mark into full control? The darkness faded from Dean's eyes. He grinned up at Castiel, "You've been holding out on me, you kinky bastard." He held his hands up, wrist to wrist. "In front or behind?"

Castiel paused to consider before answering, "...behind."

Dean shuffled around in the car and handcuffed himself behind his back while Castiel undressed. Dean watched intently. Then they were both undressed in the car and Castiel wasn't sure what to do next. The prospect of putting Dean's cock inside him made him shiver coldly. He didn't think it would be enough to just use his hands but he was realizing that as much as he had thought he was prepared to do this he wasn't. He wasn't at all.

"Lean over the front seat." Dean said once the silence had dragged on. Castiel stared at him confused. Dean chuckled, "I don't know what's better the bossy act or the innocent one." Dean grinned at him. "Lean over the seat in front of me so I can eat you out."

Castiel was about to ask what he meant by that but Dean stuck his tongue out at him and wiggled it. Castiel felt his face flush. "Oh."

Dean let out a breathy laugh and nodded towards the front seat. Castiel got himself in position. He felt vulnerable and exposed. He heard the creak of leather as Dean moved forward. Dean brushed his stubble over one cheek before pressing his face in. Castiel groaned at the first swipe of tongue over his hole.

Dean didn't let up after that first swipe of tongue. Castiel was writhing and pushing back before long, fears forgotten. Every time his cock would brush up against the seat he'd moan louder. He balanced himself carefully and moved one hand back to grab himself. He had only stroked himself a few times before Dean stopped.

"I think you're getting freakin' close there, Cas." Dean said. He nibbled at Castiel's cheek then drew back. "How about we finish this together?"

Castiel slumped off the front seat and reached for the lube. The prospect of Dean's cock in his ass didn't seem quite as nerve wracking anymore. Dean was being an attentive lover. The mark couldn't act up too much while bound in demon proof handcuffs. He was safe. He was the one in control while Dean wasn't.

He worked himself open wider then rolled a condom down over Dean's cock. He still shook a bit when he straddled Dean's lap but when he looked up Dean's eyes were green and there was no vicious amusement behind them.

He lowered himself down onto Dean's cock. It didn't hurt. He knew he was prepared enough but he had still feared it would hurt, that the mark had done some lasting damage to him.

Dean groaned and gasped and let his head roll back as Castiel pressed down. This was how he had wanted things to be last time. No pain. No harsh words. Only moans of pleasure.

He tentatively started moving. Slow pulls up and careful slides down while he still feared it might hurt. The more he moved the more he realized it _didn't_ hurt. That it hadn't hurt at all. They'd taken the time to do it right and be gentle and it didn't hurt. He moved a bit faster and shyly took hold of his own cock.

He started breathing heavy, every slide down Dean's cock was making him gasp, every drag of his hand down his own dick was making his back arch. He could feel his pleasure peaking. He let out a loud groan. Dean snapped his head up.

Castiel froze. Had the mark flared up? Was all that violence about to lash out? If not physically than verbally? He reached behind himself to grab onto the front seat, ready to yank himself away if the mark lashed out at him.

"Dean?" Castiel asked cautiously.

Dean's eyes widened, his face went red. "You just...that was really hot." He jerked his hips up. "Keep...keep going. I wanna see."

Castiel hesitantly started to move his hand again. He watched Dean carefully for signs of the mark trying to lash out.

It took him a moment to find the right rhythm between thrusting down onto Dean's cock and pumping his own dick with his hand but when he did he couldn't help the moan that left him. He silently cursed the mark for making something that felt this good into a weapon.

"Oh fuck, Cas. You are so fucking hot like this." Dean whispered. He started to thrust his hips up. "You gonna come on my cock? Gonna come and squeeze that tight little hole of yours even tighter?"

Castiel leaned forward and kissed him. The words were too much like last time even if the tone was different. He kissed the words away. Dean thrust his tongue into his mouth and jerked his hips up. Castiel plunged his hand down his cock. It all built up into a final wordless groan. He broke the kiss off in favour of gasping for air as his orgasm rocked through him and rushed out with spurts of come.

"Oh fuck." Dean gasped and threw his head back. He arched his hips up.

Castiel whimpered as Dean's cock sent a final spike of pleasure through him.

Then Dean melted into the seat. Castiel slouched forward. He trailed his fingers over Dean's chest and breathed in the warm smell of him. He felt sated and sluggish and complete. This was what he had wanted last time.

Castiel only summoned the will to move when Dean's cock started sliding from his ass. He sat aside and frowned down at the mess of the condom. He hadn't thought it would be that messy. He hadn't really been in a position to see afterwards except for the last time and that had been a mess for darker reasons.

"You okay?" Dean asked. There wasn't any darkness seeping into his eyes.

"I didn't think it'd be so..." Castiel motioned to the condom on Dean's cock.

Dean shrugged. "There's paper towels in the trunk."

Castiel dressed and went for the paper towels. He came back and took the handcuffs off Dean. They cleaned up the best they could, stopping to kiss every so often. He shoved his fears of the mark aside. This was what he wanted it to be like— even if it was messy. He wanted this. He wanted Dean.

It didn't take long to establish a new routine. Kissing when they felt like it, research and hunting when the mark acted up, and then Dean would kill the monsters and Castiel would have lube and condoms waiting for him in the car. Bloody death followed by a little death.


	5. Patience

_Now seest thou, son! The souls of those, whom anger overcame. This too for certain know, that underneath the water dwells a multitude, whose sighs into these bubbles make the surface heave._

_***_

"Still nothing?" Castiel asked as he worked the key in the door. He swatted Dean's hands away from his crotch.

"Zilch." Sam said over the phone.

Dean nuzzled into the side of Castiel's neck and started sucking a bruise below his ear. Castiel sidestepped away from him and shot him an annoyed look. "Well there must be something. No contract is set in—" Castiel let out a yelp as Dean grabbed his ass. " _Stone."_

"You okay?" Sam asked.

"Yes." Castiel said, turning a glare on Dean.

Dean grinned and snaked his hands under Castiel's shirt and started whispering filth into his free ear, "Right here. We could fuck right here. Could hold you up against the wall and fuck you for the world to see. I'm freakin' strong now, Cas. I could bounce you on my cock all day. Make that tight little hole—"

Castiel pressed the phone to his chest. "Would you _stop_ it?"

Dean grinned wider and slipped his hands down Castiel's pants.

Castiel shifted the phone to hold it in the crook of his neck and started trying to pry Dean's hands from his jeans while he talked. "I'm not sure what language you're describing. Send me a picture."

"It looks really obscure even for the Men of Letters." Sam said.

Dean wrapped his fingers around Castiel's cock and started to stroke it. Castiel let out a surprised _Ah!_

"Cas?" Sam asked.

"I'm fine." Castiel said. He glared at Dean. Dean grinned and stroked his cock again. Castiel drew himself up and looked Dean firmly in the eye. "Go get our stuff."

"Huh?" Sam asked.

"Not you. Dean." Castiel said. Dean bit his lip and rocked his hips from side to side. Castiel narrowed his eyes at him. " ** _Dean_** _."_

Dean let go of Castiel's dick and bowed his head. His face flushed pink. He stepped in closer and kissed Castiel's temple. "I'm really liking the Commander Cas voice."

Castiel pushed him away when he licked his ear. They'd had to leave the scene of Dean's kill with a great deal of haste this morning and hadn't engaged in any kind of post-hunt sex yet. Dean, apparently, had developed a reflex habit about it and hadn't left him alone since they had fled the scene. It made driving difficult.

"Tell Sam I said hi." Dean said. He made a grab for Castiel's ass again. Castiel danced out of his reach. Dean winked at him and headed for the car whistling.

"Dean says hi." Castiel said. He turned back to the door and got it open. It was much easier to unlock doors without _someone's_ hand down his pants.

"Yeah, I heard." Sam said. "...he okay?"

"Yes." Castiel said. "Well, as good as one can be while bearing the mark of Cain."

"Yeah..." Sam said. He heaved a sigh. "I'm not sure what to do, Cas. I've looked everywhere. Unless Metatron just decides to _give_ us the answer I...I don't know where else to look."

"We'll find a way." Castiel said. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. He turned the light on. He squinted at the metallic paisley wallpaper.

"Yeah. I just..." Sam sighed again.

"We always find a way, Sam. We can do this." Castiel said. They had faced impossible odds over and over. They had always found a way to keep surviving. "We'll figure this out. I know we will."

Sam snorted into the phone. "Thanks for the pep talk, Cas."

"You're welcome." Castiel said dryly. He brought up the picture Sam had sent. Hieroglyphs. He wracked his brain for the name. Human brains were so disorderly as to how they stored information. The longer he was human the harder it was becoming to draw upon his vast wealth of knowledge without some kind of prompting. He squinted down at the picture puzzled, then realized it was upside down. "It's Cretan."

"Cretan." Sam echoed.

"Yes. They develop—" Castiel was cut off when Dean came into the room, dropped their bags, then shoved him up against the wall and kissed him deep. Dean ground his hips against him and slid his hands around him to grab his ass, pulling them even closer together. Dean broke the kiss off to lick and mouth at his neck. Castiel panted as his head fell back.

"Cas?" Sam asked.

"I have to go, Sam." Castiel said. He fumbled the phone off and set it aside.

"Thought you were _never_ gonna stop talking." Dean murmured into Castiel's neck. He let go of Castiel's ass to grab one of his legs. He hauled it up to his waist. Castiel wrapped it around him. Dean got the other leg up then he was carrying Castiel across the room to the bed.

Castiel ran his hands over Dean; anywhere he could reach. His fears about Dean, the mark, and sex had faded over the last months. He was cautious. He knew when to tell Dean no and Dean listened - _usually -_ but it wasn't something he feared anymore. If he wasn't enjoying the venture all he needed to do was keep calm and take back control of the situation for Dean.

But today, he'd enjoy it. The mark was quiet after the kill and Dean was in a lighter mood; excitable too since they had been involved in a minor police chase earlier.

Dean tossed him down to the bed. Castiel watched as he discarded his clothes in a flurry. Dean winked at him then started stripping him down too. Castiel craned his head back looking for his bag. Dean tugged his boots and socks off. Castiel spotted his bag on the floor and crawled across the bed to reach it. He laid out on his stomach and reached for the bag. He dragged it closer and opened it up, looking for lube and a condom. Dean pulled his pants and underwear off. He gasped when Dean spread his cheeks and started licking.

Castiel took a moment to appreciate the pleasure before shakily going back to his search. He found the box of condoms quickly enough but the lube was gone. His brow furrowed as he realized they had used it up last time and he'd forgotten to buy more. He forgot things as a human.

" _Dean."_ Castiel hissed in pleasure as Dean pressed his tongue in. "We don't have any lube."

"We will." Dean said. He flipped Castiel over without warning and dragged him to the end of the bed bunching Castiel's shirt up under his arms. Castiel had a moment to let out a surprised yelp before Dean slid a spit-slick finger in his ass - one finger didn't feel so intrusive anymore - and swallowed his cock down.

Castiel's back arched. He thrust his hips up into Dean's mouth. Dean shoved his finger up with Castiel's hips and rubbed over that quirk of mammalian biology, the prostate. Castiel had the wherewithal to send out one brief prayer of thanks to his Father that humans were not one of the few exception for that piece of evolutionary work.

His hand shot down to Dean's head as Dean licked and sucked. Castiel's breathing came in shorter and shorter gasps as he came closer and closer to release. When the first spurts of come left him Dean pulled away. It was too late for Castiel to do anything but thrash his hips up into the air and groan but it would have been nicer if Dean had kept his mouth on him.

Castiel melted into the bed, eyes closed and his breathing heavy. He felt Dean wipe the come off his stomach and chest. He made a noise that was supposed to be a question. Dean chuckled at him.

"Told you we'd get some lube." Dean said as he grabbed Castiel's legs and pulled him closer to the edge of the bed.

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't sure what Dean meant. They didn't have— His eyes snapped open. " **No**. That won't work."

Dean looked down at him with wide pleading eyes and whimpered.

Castiel propped himself up on his elbows. "No. I'm not open enough and it's _not_ sufficient lube."

Dean sighed. He looked down to his dick, covered in Castiel's come, and sighed again. Castiel sat up not sure what to do. It was nice when he had an orgasm during sex but his pleasure wasn't the goal in mind when they did this. It was supposed to help Dean ground himself. Though he might enjoy it greatly the sex wasn't ultimately for him, it was for Dean. It was to show Dean that _yes_ , someone _did_ care, that someone _trusted_ him. Castiel wanted to tell him that someone _loved_ him - that someone being him - but he wanted the first time he said that to Dean to be when he knew Dean was free and clear of the mark of Cain. Until then he'd show him instead.

He motioned for Dean to lie on the bed. Dean looked at him surprised, as if he knew what Castiel had in mind and had never thought he'd want to do that. Dean arranged himself. Castiel shucked his shirt and jacket then studied the situation. He wasn't sure how to proceed. After some deliberation he parted Dean's legs and laid out between them.

Castiel hesitated. He'd have preferred to have tried this for the first time without his own come covering Dean's cock. He glanced up. Dean was watching him intently. He looked back to Dean's hard cock glistening with his come. He leaned forward and licked at the head. His nose wrinkled at the taste of his own come. It wasn't horrible but it wasn't an enjoyable flavour either.

He licked at the head of Dean's cock for a few moments before he let it part his lips and slide into his mouth.

Dean groaned and put a hand to the back of his head. "Stay there for a sec or I'm gonna shoot right now

Castiel stayed where he was, Dean's cock in his mouth, with Dean's steady hand on the back of his head.

" _Fuck."_ Dean hissed. He slowly started rolling his hips up, pressing his cock deeper into Castiel's mouth but never too far. "You look so fucking hot with a cock in your mouth."

It took some effort for Castiel to get the right rhythm, Dean's hand on his head was a useful guide for that, but once he found the right pace it was easier than he'd thought it'd be to breathe around Dean's cock while he blew him.

He worked Dean's cock until Dean's thrusts became deeper and erratic and each of Dean's breaths was a moan. They'd had enough sex that Castiel knew what was about to happen. He wasn't sure if he could swallow the way Dean did without choking and he wasn't sure he wouldn't gag at the taste when it would inevitably flood his mouth.

He started to pull up and off Dean - he could finish him with his hands - but Dean's hand was still firmly gripping the back of his head. He could only pull up as far as the last two inches of Dean's cock.

Dean's moans started to get noisy. Castiel pushed up against Dean's hand but got nowhere. He squeezed at Dean's leg but Dean was so far gone in pleasure he didn't notice.

Dean kept thrusting into his mouth. His breath suddenly hitched. Castiel squeezed his eyes shut because this was it. A groan exploded out of Dean. Come flooded Castiel's mouth. He wrinkled his nose at the taste but did his best to swallow it. Then Dean shoved his head down.

Castiel's eyes went wide in panicked surprise. Another hot spurt of come hit the back of Castiel's throat as he gagged on Dean's cock. By reflex his throat convulsed and he tried to cough which only served to make him choke worse when come was sucked into his lungs.

He tried to shove away again but Dean's hand kept him in place. His eyes burned with the effort of trying to fight his body's reflex to cough the come out of his lungs, another sharp breath in would only make matters worse.

Dean's hand finally fell away. Castiel jerked upright and let out a hacking cough. Dean lurched forward and pounded his back until he had cleared his lungs.

"Got a little too confident, huh?" Dean chuckled. He turned Castiel's head towards him and swiped away the drops of come on his lips and chin with his thumb. He popped his thumb into his mouth and sucked it clean.

Castiel looked at him reproachfully. He had been anything but confident about it. Dean had been so wrapped up in lust he'd forgotten their roles were reversed when it came to strength these days. He glanced away, "You don't cough like that after."

Castiel felt the bed shake in a silent laugh from Dean. Castiel realized what he had said. Dean didn't need to breathe. Of course he wouldn't cough.

Dean pulled him down to the bed with him and wrapped Castiel in his arms. He pressed a kiss to Castiel's temple and chuckled again. "Never thought I'd hear an angel be jealous of my cock sucking skills."

Dean peppered more kisses into his hair and gently stroked along his side while humming a song Castiel couldn't place; it wasn't any of the songs from the box of tapes Dean kept but it sounded familiar. It was all enough to make Castiel push aside what had happened and curl into Dean's warmth. He'd remind Dean later to mind his strength.

They spent two uneventful days at the motel before packing up and leaving to investigate a string of disappearances not too far away. Normally Castiel would focus on finding Crowley after a hunt but the disappearances were everywhere in the news and Dean said the entire situation _smacked_ of vampires bolstering their ranks. They couldn't very well leave people to die or become vampires just because he wanted a few weeks of calm before the mark started acting up again.

It didn't take long for Dean to track the vampires down and for the mark to start whispering about revenge. Vampires always seemed to be the quickest way to rile up the mark.

"We should phone Sam." Castiel said. He set his hand down on Dean's shoulder. Dean shrugged it off and let out a huff of disgust. Castiel sighed and sat down at the motel table with Dean. "Revenge makes the mark worse. Myself and Sam can take care of this and—"

"Sam's a day's drive away. What if they turn them and make them feed? Or just kill them?" Dean growled. He shoved the food he didn't need to eat away from himself and added a very quiet, "Like they almost did to you."

Castiel's hand went up to the silvery scarring on his neck. He actually forgot about it most days. It seemed so very long ago with everything else that had happened since but he _had_ nearly died. He would have died if Dean hadn't saved him.

"Alright. We'll go tomorrow." Castiel said.

They finished eating— _he_ finished eating, Dean stalked the room occasionally muttering about vampires. Castiel thought he might have to tell Dean no, they couldn't have sex while he was agitated by the mark but Dean didn't ask for it. Instead he simply gathered up everything they'd need tomorrow and tossed it into the devil's trap before stepping into it himself.

"Do you need anything else?" Castiel asked as he shook the can of spray paint.

"No." Dean said. He sat down on the bed and picked up one of the machetes to start sharpening it.

Castiel nodded and bent down to spray over the break in the circle of the trap. He cleaned up the remains of dinner then headed for the bathroom to shower. It occurred to him while he was washing his hair that he may want to take certain precautions tomorrow on their hunt. He'd have to go inside to release anyone human and stop Dean from killing any newly turned vampires that hadn't fed. Of course he'd take the gun with the devil's trap bullets but considering how things had gone the last time he had been present during a hunt there were some other things he should probably bring just in case.

Dean woke him up once that night with a pillow tossed at his head.

"Werewolves?" Dean asked.

Castiel shook his head in the dark. "Vampires."

He shifted uncomfortably. The bed was damp with sweat, he was breathing fast and his heart was beating quick with remembered fear from his dream. It felt like his body was preparing for either a battle or a hasty retreat; fight or flight. But there was nothing threatening in the room and no reason to flee. He knew that but it seemed his body didn't.

"You okay?" Dean asked the silent room.

Castiel sat up. He reached for the glass of water he kept on the nightstand - it turned out human throats sometimes dried out during sleep - and drank half of it. He didn't feel better. His heart was still thumping and he was starting to feel some electric need to move, to _do_ something.

"Cas?"

Castiel peered at Dean in the dark. His heart beat faster and his thoughts seemed to scatter all over the place. It almost felt like those darker days after that incident with Dean and the hunters but it seemed to be because of his dream about the vampires that had taken him. It was ridiculous. It was long over. Those vampires were all dead. Why would he dream about it now? They had hunted vampires since then. He had even gotten out of the car and killed one himself.

But he hadn't before faced down the prospect of going into a vampire's nest where they kept people like cattle and chained the newly turned so they wouldn't go on a killing spree. It would probably be in the basement. That's where they had kept him; fed from him until he was nearly dead.

"I almost died." Castiel said without further explanation. It was strange to say aloud and strange that it would bother him as much as it did. He was human right now. He had a soul. If he died he would just go home. He wouldn't have to worry about the hardships of Heaven anymore. They would be someone else's problems.

He heard Dean shift on the other bed and saw that strange ripple of light that went with a demon trying to get through a devil's trap. Dean swore softly under his breath and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I shoulda gotten there sooner." Dean said, not needing anymore explanation to know what Castiel was talking about.

Castiel bit at his lip. If he died he'd go home— but Dean would never follow him, not like this. Dean was a demon. Castiel slipped out of bed and stepped across the three feet that separated the beds. In the dark he felt for the weapons, intent on moving them to the floor.

Dean caught his hands, "Let me do it. It's dark. You'll cut yourself."

Castiel moved aside and let Dean clear the bed. Dean set everything on the floor just within the devil's trap then pulled the covers back and slid into the bed. Castiel followed in after him. He wriggled in close and pressed his cheek to Dean's chest. Dean tensed for a moment before he made soft sound and wrapped his arms around him. Castiel's heart stopped thumping in panic as Dean's warmth sunk into him. They'd be fine tomorrow. Dean would kill the vampires, he would save any victims they could. Then they'd redouble their efforts to find a way to get rid of the mark of Cain so that even if he never found his grace he wouldn't be abandoning Dean to Hell.

"This probably isn't the best idea." Dean commented quietly.

"Probably not." Castiel agreed. Sleeping in the same bed as a demon was a terrible idea. He already took his chances when he nodded off in the car or after sex. But this was Dean. Even in the middle of killing a nest of vampires, when the mark of Cain would have been singing through his veins, Dean had saved him. The mark might drive him to do terrible things but in the end it was still Dean, the man who tried to save everyone.

Sleeping in the same bed as a demon was a terrible idea but it was Dean.

He woke up when the alarm went off at 6:30am. Nothing untoward had happened. He turned the alarm clock off and reached down to pick up one of the machetes and scrape it through the spray paint on the floor. He set the machete back down and moved to get out of bed but Dean grabbed him around the middle and dragged him back under the covers.

"You gonna be able to do this?" Dean asked against the back of Castiel's neck.

"Yes." Castiel said.

"You sure?" Dean asked again. He pressed a kiss against Castiel's neck. " 'cause I don't want you getting hurt in there."

"I'll be fine." Castiel said. He would be. He may be facing down two of the worst moments he had lived through as a human but that was what was important, _he had lived through them._ He had been in danger but he had survived. He could do it. He could face those moments without fear. Dean did it all the time.

They laid curled into each other for a few moments before Castiel pushed away and started getting ready. He gathered up his clothes from his bag and secreted the bottle of lube into the pile. He took everything into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

He'd take the gun with him on the hunt of course but he had taken it last time too and Dean had knocked it away and jammed dry fingers into his ass...and then there was everything that had happened after. He thought it might be better to be prepared for that eventuality too.

He used the toilet, cleaned himself out, and then tried to work as much lube inside himself as he could, hoping it wouldn't dry out. He wasn't sure if it would even help if Dean got too rough but it would likely be better than doing nothing.

Dean knocked on the door. "You fall in or something?"

"Fall into to what?" Castiel asked. He squeezed more lube onto his fingers and pressed them inside himself.

"The toilet." Dean laughed.

"No." Castiel rolled his eyes. It wasn't that funny.

He pressed more lube inside himself. He could hear Dean shuffle around outside the bathroom door. Dean let out a small polite cough. Castiel froze with two fingers deep in his ass. Could Dean see him? He had been able to see through walls as an angel. Could demons see through things too? He pulled his fingers out of himself and cleaned himself up with toilet paper. That would have to be enough lube. He washed his hands and got dressed. He secreted the lube away into an inside pocket of his jacket.

Dean was waiting for him on the other side of the door when he opened it.

"Breakfast?" Dean asked.

Castiel shook his head. He wasn't particularly hungry anyway but having twice tried to have sex after eating a large meal he didn't think it was a good idea if he was worried about the mark being sexually aggressive.

Dean looked like he was going to argue but he shrugged, "Alright. I packed up your stuff. Let's do this."

The vampires' nest wasn't far from the motel. The house the vampires had taken over was a large sprawling manor at the edge of town, perfectly kept up and not a hint of what laid within.

Castiel tucked the gun with the devil's trap bullets into the waist of his pants then emptied out a duffle bag and slipped the bolt cutters and first aid kit inside. They didn't know what state they'd find the victims in. He shouldered the bag. Dean took out the machetes and passed one to him. Castiel could see the buzz of violence fuelled by revenge just below the surface.

"Don't get eaten again, ya hear?" Dean said sternly.

"I won't." Castiel said. He gripped the handle of the knife. He always found it strangely soothing to have a blade in hand. He wondered if it was in an angel's nature to be comforted by a blade, even if he was an ex-angel.

He followed Dean inside. Dean listened intently in the front hall and told him which areas to avoid and, as Castiel had thought, that the victims were in the basement. Castiel nodded silently and started down the hall looking for a basement door.

He found the basement door tucked away behind the kitchen after killing two vampires to get there. He found the light switch just beyond the door and flicked it on. Low moans came from down the stairs. He stalked down the stairs near silently and set the duffle bag down at the bottom.

Two newly turned vampires chained to the wall stared at him with wild hungry eyes. He skirted around them making sure to keep out of reach. He found one other victim already dead and no one else. He went back to the newly turned vampires and tried to talk with them.

As far as he could tell they hadn't yet fed. They could still be saved.

He waited in the basement with the victims and listened as the fighting slowed then stopped. He waited for Dean to come to him but the house stayed silent and Dean didn't come. He waited for another fifteen minutes before he risked going upstairs. He took the gun with the devil's trap bullets out and crept up the stairs and into the kitchen.

The house was still silent.

He licked his lips nervously. He debated the merits of staying where he was versus cautiously looking for Dean. He edged his way along the counter to one of the doorways in the kitchen and poked his head around the corner. There was a dead vampire but no sign of Dean.

He backed up and turned around. He sucked in a surprised breath. Dean was standing in the middle of the kitchen. A shiver of fear rolled through him. Dean was watching him carefully, just like the last time, those two dark eyes filled with curiosity.

Castiel took a slow steady breath and kept the gun trained on Dean. If he stayed calm the mark would stay calm and Dean would keep control. "There are two victims chained in the basement. They're newly turned. I think they can be cured."

Dean took a step forward. Castiel tensed. Dean put his hands up in an innocent gesture and slowly took another step forward. A smile caught between genuine and sly pulled at Dean's lips, "That's good. You okay?"

"I'm fine." Castiel said, gun still pointed at Dean. Stepping backwards last time hadn't helped. Showing his fears had made matters worse. He kept his ground. "We should get the necessary ingredients to cure them."

"Yeah." Dean said. He started to take another slow step forward.

"Stop." Castiel said firmly. Dean stilled. Castiel chewed at his lip. What did he do? Dean was slowly edging towards him. Dean hadn't said or done anything that would make him think the mark had control but Dean's eyes were still blacker than the night. Dean leaned forward and eased his foot closer. Castiel gave him a hard look, "Dean. I said stop."

" _Why?"_ Dean asked petulantly. He took another a step forward, not trying in the least to be cautious about it.

"I _will_ shoot you, Dean." Castiel said.

Dean stopped where he was. He studied Castiel for a moment than took a step back. "Alright."

Castiel nodded, "Good."

"I'm not gonna hurt you." Dean said. He looked Castiel up and down. "I just..." He licked his lips and grinned. "The gun, the rescue, the in command voice." He bit his lip and made a low noise in his throat. "It's a good look on you."

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean. His eyes flicked down to Dean's feet. He was slowly shuffling closer again. " _Dean."_

" _Cas."_ Dean mimicked back. Amusement was obvious in his eyes even if they were black. He grinned. Without warning he bolted forward. Castiel squeezed the trigger. Dean hissed in pain as the bullet grazed him. He caught Castiel's wrists before he could pull the trigger a second time. He pushed Castiel back against the counter and pinned him there with his hips. He plucked the gun from Castiel's grip and slid the gun down the counter out of reach. He dragged his lips through his teeth. He settled his hands on Castiel's sides and jerked Castiel forward as he ground their hips together. He let out a groan of desire, "Fuck, that look on you. If you were powered up right now you'd be burning me out. Fuck that's hot. All...fury and... _you."_

Whatever fury Dean saw on his face was a lie. Castiel's heart was beating erratically. Dean had him trapped again. He was sure he'd start shaking in fear soon. He kept his face schooled. He put a hand onto Dean's chest and gently pushed. "We're busy, Dean. We have people to save."

Dean ground his hardening cock against Castiel. He ran his hands over Castiel's sides. "Yeah...yeah..." He said, distracted. He glanced over his shoulder to the door that led to the basement. "...make it quick then." He muttered. Black eyes turned back to Castiel. "Blowjob?"

Castiel's eyes went wide in fear. It was hard to get Dean's attention during a blowjob when he _wasn't_ under the influence of the mark. The mark wouldn't care in the least if he choked.

Dean slinked down his body and knelt on the floor. He started working Castiel's pants undone. "Fuck. This is even hotter. A demon on his knees in front of an angel? That's gotta be breaking some Heavenly rules."

Castiel stared in confusion. He had been expecting violence and pain and now Dean had pushed his pants down and was reverently stroking his cock. He blinked and shook his head. "Dean, we're in the middle of—"

Castiel gasped and bucked his hips forward when Dean swallowed him down. His hand shot to Dean's head intent on pushing him away but instead he sunk his fingers into Dean's hair. He grit his teeth. This was not the place, the time, or the circumstance for this. He pulled at Dean's head, "There are two victims down there that need our help. We don't— _ahh!"_

Dean sucked hard and swallowed around Castiel's dick. Castiel grabbed the edged of the counter and held on. His knees shook as if they might give out. Dean grabbed his hips and, without taking his mouth from his dick, heaved Castiel up onto the counter.

Castiel let his head roll back and thump off the cupboard behind him.

Dean spread Castiel's legs further apart. He slid a hand between Castiel's ass and the counter and pressed a finger in. Dean made a surprised noise around his cock when his finger slid in without much effort.

Castiel gasped. His earlier preparations would have been sorely lacking if anything larger than a finger was up his ass - the lube had mostly soaked in and he had tightened back up - but it was just enough to make it not painful and Dean had done this innumerable times now. He knew how to relax around the intrusion and enjoy it. Though he really shouldn't. They still had people to save.

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut. He should really insist that Dean stop. He let out a long groan. His hand shot back to Dean's head and grabbed a fistful of hair.

There wasn't much point in telling Dean to stop at this point, it was going to be over soon any way.

Dean pressed his finger up and worked his tongue over the head of Castiel's dick. Castiel started to pant, his hips bucked forward. Dean didn't let up. Everything drew up tight and fiery hot and together and released with an explosive groan from Castiel's throat.

Dean sucked him through it. Castiel jerked and twitched. His hand slipped from Dean's hair to stroke Dean's cheek. He breathed heavily. He rolled his head forward and looked down. Black eyes stared back at him. His hand froze.

Dean still had his mouth wrapped around his softening cock but he leaned into Castiel's touch and nuzzled against his hand with the occasional gentle suck or stroke of the tongue to his dick.

Hesitantly Castiel started moving his hand again, softly stroking Dean's cheek. Dean gave a pleased hum and closed his eyes. It was so very strange. As Dean put it they were a demon and an angel - fallen angel - respectively but despite the presence of a softening cock the gentle touch and the reverent look on Dean's face gave everything an air of absolution, as if it had been Dean's act of contrition to blow him in a vampire nest.

Castiel wasn't sure how long they stayed in that odd way.

At some unknown signal Dean pulled him off the counter. He tugged his pants back up. He gave Castiel's dick a loving stroke and carefully tucked it into his pants before doing up his jeans and belt. He gave it a soft pat through the front of Castiel's jeans. He leaned in and kissed him. Castiel could taste the come on his tongue. Dean pulled back with a smug grin. He reached over for the gun. He wrapped his arms around Castiel and tucked the gun into the waist of the back of his pants.

"Come on. Got some folks to save." Dean said, eyes still black. He headed for the basement stairs. He paused at the top. "Hey, why don't you get the stuff? I'll stay and babysit. I probably shouldn't be going out with-" He gestured to his eyes. "In case you run into any hunters."

Castiel studied him carefully. Dean didn't have that slinking predatory look about him but his eyes _were_ still black. What if the moment he left the mark flared up and Dean killed the victims?

"I'd feel better if you put the handcuffs on." Castiel said.

Dean shrugged, "Alright."

Castiel went out to the car and got the handcuffs. Dean was waiting for him in the kitchen when he came back. He let him put the handcuffs on without complaint. Castiel took Dean's phone out of his pocket and made sure Dean could use it in case someone came to the house.

"Gonna be okay to get the stuff?" Dean asked.

"Yes. Are you sure you'll be okay waiting here?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah. It'll be a blast." Dean said. "And hey, I've got round two to look forward to right?" Dean winked at him. He held up his hands. "You always get all bossy when the handcuffs come out."

Castiel shook his head. Dean laughed.

It didn't take long for him to gather supplies and Dean was right to worry about running into hunters. He had ended up buying ingredients from an older woman who had been an active hunter not long ago. Dean was still sitting at the table when he came back. The victims were still chained in the basement. They made up the cure and waited for it to run its course before taking the victims to the hospital.

Dean got his round two in a motel five hours away. He insisted on the handcuffs.

The vampire hunt changed things. Dean seemed relaxed, almost comfortable, as if the mark was deep asleep and had no intention of waking any time soon. Castiel thought that it had to do with whatever revenge Dean had still felt he needed to take on the vampires that had abducted him. After that hunt Dean seemed to have let it go and the mark was quieter for it.

Their lives seemed almost normal after; days spent on the road, nights spent in motels. There was a myriad of things Dean wanted him to see and experience and since the mark had gone quiet they could without fear of endangering others.

Castiel still put together hunts as a precaution in case the mark suddenly reared up but the days passed and those dark looks in Dean never appeared. More often than not during his daily phone call to Sam, Castiel would give the hunt away. Just because Dean didn't need it didn't mean there weren't people that needed to be saved.

Occasionally there would be no one in the area and they'd have to go on the hunt whether Dean needed to or not. During the hunt Castiel would see a distant rumble of the mark and Dean's eyes would often turn black but Dean kept it under control— _they_ kept it under control. _Together_. Because Castiel was sure it wasn't violence that gave Dean the ability to keep the mark under control. It was love.

As much as Castiel would have liked to forget about the mark it was still something they needed to deal with. Cain had kept it under control for years only to lash out once again. So as calm as things were he knew it was only a matter of time before their luck ran out. He was determined to stop that from happening. Sam continued searching for a way to remove the mark while he and Dean searched for Crowley and the blade. Castiel had already arranged with Sam that when they got it back Sam would come and take it to the bunker and keep it in a demon proof room. Castiel didn't want to take any chances that reuniting the blade and Dean would trigger the mark into lashing out.

Their search for Crowley and the blade pointed them towards South Dakota. There was a significant increase of demon activity there. Enough so to start causing a surge in century storms _and_ droughts. They found themselves there two days later.

Castiel picked out a motel for them. He was as adept at picking out the right kind of motel for hunters as Dean these days. It was a skill he was proud of, though he knew it wasn't exactly a savoury skill to have. Still, he had learned so much more being human this time. He didn't feel stranded without his grace. He felt like he belonged.

Castiel parked the car. Dean leaned over and kissed him. Castiel grinned and tossed the keys over to Dean. They had a routine. Castiel would check them in. Dean would get their bags out of the trunk.

Castiel went to the motel office. The office was poorly lit and somewhat grubby and _very_ human.

The clerk behind the desk glanced up at him and asked him what he wanted.

"Two double beds, four nights." Castiel said with the ease that came with familiarity.

"Booked up." The clerk said without looking back up. "But I can do a room with one double bed."

Castiel huffed in amusement. He had watched a great deal of television and movies these past months. He could appreciate the cliché. No doubt Dean would find it amusing too.

"That's fine." Castiel said. He offered the credit card that declared him to be _Kenneth Rodgers_.

The clerk processed the charge and handed him his credit card back along with a room key. Castiel thanked him and went back out to Dean.

Two beds were not exactly necessary for them these days. More often than not he fell asleep after sex curled into Dean while Dean held him through the night, no matter which bed they were in. One bed would just remove the _façade_ that they weren't sleeping together.

Dean was waiting outside the car with their bags. They chatted amicably about nothing in particular while Castiel led the way to their room. These were the types of conversations that he enjoyed most. There wasn't a purpose to them, they weren't discussing the mark, or Crowley, or a hunt. It was a chance to simply be. He felt _human_ in those brief moments. It made him think that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he never found and reclaimed his grace.

He unlocked the door to the room and held it open for Dean. Dean stepped past him and stopped once he got into the small room.

Castiel closed the door behind them and came to a stop beside Dean. Dean was staring at the one lonely bed in the room. Castiel glanced over at him wondering if maybe he had been presumptuous, maybe he had been deluding himself. They may live, eat, and sleep together. They may have sex and kiss. But that didn't necessarily mean it was anything more than that. He'd been human long enough to understand that sometimes _everything_ didn't mean anything at all. Doubt welled up in his chest.

Dean turned to him and grinned, "Aw Cas, if I knew you were gonna make it official I'd have told ya to get us the honeymoon suit."

Castiel rolled his eyes, though his chest swelled up with relief that Dean hadn't demanded they book a second room or find a different motel and a soft smile played across his face at Dean's choice in words. It was official.

He took his bag from Dean and set it down on the table. He took out the laptop intent on reviewing what they already knew about the demon activity in the area.

"I could've carried you in bridal style." Dean teased.

"All the rooms with two beds were booked." Castiel said in response. He knew if he didn't downplay it they'd never get any work done. Dean could be insatiable when the mood struck him. They could celebrate _after_ they investigated the demon activity. "It was this or drive around looking for somewhere else. Besides, you don't sleep."

"What? Gonna make me stand in the corner all night?" Dean asked.

"Obviously not." Castiel said. He opened up the laptop and turned it on. "We've been sharing a bed for the better part of—"

Castiel yelped as he was suddenly swept off his feet. Dean hefted him into his arms. Castiel curled his fist into the front of Dean's shirt. He narrowed his eyes at Dean, trying to look put out from being surprised and doing a poor job of it.

Dean chuckled. He bent his head closer and kissed him. He squeezed Castiel closer to his chest, "See? Could've carried you in like this, then tossed you on the bed, and...uh...what's the word...?" Dean's eyebrows came together in thought. " _Ravished._ Yeah, _ravished_ you."

"And because it's not the honeymoon suit you couldn't possibly do that." Castiel said dryly.

"Exactly." Dean said in over exaggerated seriousness. "That's like rule one of ravishing someone. It has to be in the honeymoon suit."

Dean turned and tossed him onto the bed. Castiel hit with a bounce. Dean didn't crawl onto the bed with him. Instead he started plucking at Castiel's bootlaces.

"So...I was thinking..." Dean said far too casually as he tugged Castiel's boots off. He reached up for Castiel's belt next. "Maybe we could try out some... _different_ things. I wasn't gonna bring it up tonight but now we gotta do something special right? Since we're one double bed kind of people now."

"What sort of _different_ things?" Castiel asked. He arched his hips up to let Dean slide his jeans and boxers off. Dean, in the past few weeks, had slowly become comfortable enough with how things were between them to shyly start asking for things he wanted. Castiel thought he was rather adept at dirty talk these days and while he had been wary at first he was beginning to see the merits of biting— and spanking.

"Well...I,uh, _bought_ something a while ago, just never really got around to asking about it." Dean said. His face flushed. Castiel had begun to find it strangely endearing that despite everything that had happened with the mark of Cain - and even just the violence of Dean's day to day life without it - Dean could still be nervous about touching him or asking for things he wanted in bed. "And...uh...was thinking maybe we could...uh...switch places?"

Dean's face turned bright red. He quickly pulled Castiel's jacket and shirt off as if trying to hide his face from view.

As soon as his arms were free Castiel looped them around Dean. He kissed him slow and careful, trying to ease Dean's nerves. Dean had never been the receptive partner during sex except when it came to oral sex. Castiel hadn't broached the subject since every time his fingers wandered close to Dean's ass it had been obvious he was uncomfortable with it. It wasn't something he craved in particular. All he wanted was Dean. So he was content to be the receptive partner if that was what Dean was comfortable with but he _had_ wondered about it. Dean had shyly offered the first time they'd had sex, now Dean was offering again.

He smiled against Dean's lips. "Of course, Dean."

Dean kissed him quickly and grinned. He told Castiel to lay back while he got something from his bag.

Castiel laid back and let his eyes fall close only opening them when Dean had crawled over top of him - still fully clothed - and drew his arms up above his head by the wrists. Castiel looked at him puzzled.

Dean straddled his waist and leaned down to kiss him. The look of confusion left Castiel's face as he kissed back. Castiel's eyebrows furrowed when he heard something clatter against the headboard. His eyes flashed open when he felt cool metal hook around his wrists and snap shut.

Dean sat up and fixed him with a hungry predatory look. "Fuck. You look so hot handcuffed to the bed. Knew you would."

Castiel's heart pounded. He stared up at Dean with wide eyes. He felt himself start to shake and let out a whimper, " _... Dean."_

"Hey, whoa. Breathe, Cas." Dean said. He kissed him softly and made quiet shushing noises and gently ran his hands over Castiel. "What's up? You said it was okay."

Castiel took in a shaky breath. He had said it was okay? He hadn't agreed to being handcuffed to the bed. He thought over what Dean had said. Dean had said _switch places_ and he had assumed that Dean had meant the roles they usually took on during sex— but directly after a hunt he often _did_ make Dean wear the demon proof handcuffs as a precaution and Dean did ask to wear them rather frequently these days. This _was_ technically _switching places._ He should have asked for Dean to be more clear before agreeing.

"I...I didn't think you meant-" Castiel tugged at the handcuffs. " _This."_

"Oh..." Dean looked at him sadly. "So...you don't wanna...?"

Castiel chewed at his lip— a habit he had recently realized he had formed. Dean sighed sadly and reached up for the handcuffs with the key. Castiel rocked his hips up, "Wait."

Dean paused and looked down at him.

"You like it? When _you_ wear them?" Castiel asked. The first time Dean had spanked him he had scrambled away thinking the mark had flared up. It wasn't until Dean had insisted he do it to _him_ and he had seen firsthand the pleasure it brought Dean that he had actually believed it could be anything more than startling. If Dean liked something he found it was often pleasurable for him too. They had some disagreements as to just _how_ pleasurable some things were but Castiel had yet to find any of the things Dean asked for genuinely uncomfortable.

Dean nodded. His face flushed bright red. "Yeah...it's, uh...yeah. It's good."

Castiel studied Dean for traces of the mark just as a precaution. He knew from experience just how vulnerable he could be like this. He didn't want this to be the way the mark sprung back up to the forefront. He searched Dean's face for any hint of the mark but couldn't see anything but Dean. This appeared to be something _Dean_ wanted, not the mark. Castiel relaxed into the bed. "Alright. But, if I ask you'll take them off."

Dean chuckled slyly. "Trust me, you're not gonna be asking once I get you going."

Dean sprawled out over him and stroked his dick while he kissed him. On some unknown whim Dean slid down the bed and began sucking his cock. Castiel let his head fall back and enjoyed himself.

Castiel heard the snap of a bottle of lube opening. That sound had struck fear into him not so long ago but now it only made him drag his bottom lip through his teeth with anticipation. His eyebrows furrowed when he felt something wide and blunt press against his hole instead of Dean's fingers.

He lifted his head up. "Dean?"

Dean grinned around his cock. He pulled off. "I bought something, remember?"

"...what is it?" Castiel asked curiously. Dean hadn't stopped trying to work it in. From what he could tell it was vaguely conical in shape.

"It's a surprise." Dean said before swallowing his cock down again.

Castiel watched him for a moment before laying his head back down. Whatever it was Dean was being careful with it, never pushing too much in at once.

He knew about sex toys in a roundabout way from things Dean had said and from watching tv. He thought it was likely a dildo. He let himself enjoy the sensation of his hole slowly stretching open; the dildo always seeming to get wider until suddenly it slipped in all the way and made him gasp.

Dean groaned at the noise he made and sucked harder on his dick.

Castiel panted as he adjusted to the sensation. There was something pressing against the outside of him stopping it from getting lodge inside. Castiel squeezed around it. The word _plug_ came to mind. He wasn't really sure what the distinction between a dildo and a plug was other than shape and when Dean started to work it in and out of his ass he really didn't care.

Castiel writhed on the bed until Dean stopped and sat up. He held up a small black remote. Castiel stared puzzled.

"What do you think?" Dean asked. "Racer? Or pulsating?"

"...huh?" Castiel asked.

"Let's go with racer." Dean said. He pushed a button on the remote. Castiel's eyes went wide. His hips bucked up. His breath punched out of his gut as the vibrations shook through him. Dean grabbed his hips and held them down. He licked his lips. "Fuck. You look so fucking hot when you lose it like this."

Castiel couldn't get his mouth to work. Dean grinned and sunk back down, taking his cock back in his mouth. Castiel's head thrashed back. If it weren't for Dean's hands keeping his hips firmly in place he'd be thrusting up wildly. He let out a strangled gasp when Dean swallowed around his cock.

He was so very close to coming when the door swung open.

Dean snarled wordlessly at the intruders. He rolled off the bed and snatched up his gun.

Castiel stared frozen in in complete disbelief. Absurdly, all he could think was that their intruders were rude for ignoring the _do not disturb_ sign on their door.

"Fucking angels." Dean growled. "You winged-dicks have been jerking me around for years. Can't I get a moment's peace?"

"Abomination." Hissed one of the angels.

Castiel stared and willed himself to see. He had thought demons had found them but Dean had said angels. Castiel tried to reach out the way he would have with his grace but he couldn't feel them. He couldn't hear his brothers. He had no idea who these two were or what they wanted.

"Yeah. Yesterday's news, pal." Dean spat. His eyes turned black. He tossed the gun aside in favour of rushing forward.

Castiel cringed expecting Dean's fist to break against the angel's jaw but the angel staggered back. Dean landed another blow. The angel dropped his blade. Dean snatched it up. Castiel had seconds to turn his head away and press it into the pillows before his brother died in a burst of light.

There was a snarl from Dean and a yell from the remaining angel and then the sound of boots racing out the door. Castiel turned his head back and blinked against the spots in his vision. Ash rained down on him. The room was empty. Dean had gone after the other angel. On his own. While his eyes were black. Panic ripped through his chest. Dean was out there chasing an angel, stirring the mark up, and there would be innocent people everywhere! He had to get free and stop Dean before he did something he'd regret!

He yanked at the handcuffs trying to break the chain or the headboard. He folded his hands up and tried to drag them through the cuffs. He jerked his hands down trying to force the handcuffs over the swell of his thumb. He had to get to Dean.

"Well...this was not a sight I expected to see but I can't say I'm surprised."

Castiel's eyes flicked over. His lips pulled back in silent snarl, " _Crowley."_

"Hello, Castiel." Crowley said. He looked Castiel over deeply amused. He laughed to himself. He swirled his whiskey in his glass and shook his head. He smirked down at his whiskey and took a sip. "Sorry to interrupt. Seems like you had other plans."

Castiel glared at him refusing to acknowledge his precarious position - alone, naked, handcuffed to a bed, a vibrator up his ass - to Crowley. He must have tipped off the angels to their whereabouts as a distraction.

Crowley stepped closer to the bed. He picked up the small black remote and turned the vibrator off. "Work before pleasure, as the saying goes."

"I am _not_ working with _you."_ Castiel spat out.

"Ah, well, it's not work so much as it is...a mutual topic of interest I wish to discuss." Crowley said. His eyes wandered over Castiel again. He shook his head. "Some days I am genuinely amazed that you and the plaid patrol have been such colossal annoyances."

Castiel scowled at him.

"I see turning human again has done wonders to your sunny disposition." Crowley said.

"Whatever it is you want to say, say it now." Castiel growled. "Because when Dean comes back—"

"Don't worry about him. I've arranged for him to get some exercise." Crowley waved a hand dismissively towards the door. He sipped at his whiskey. "But I do have elsewhere to be. So let's get down to business. I have the first blade."

Castiel opened his mouth to threaten him but Crowley rolled his eyes and cut him off.

"Yes. I know. Cut my heart out." Crowley said. "But in the meantime I'd like for you to quit wasting your efforts looking for me and focus on finding a permanent cure for the mark of Cain."

Castiel eyed him suspiciously. " _Why?"_

"Because it's bad for my health to have Dean Winchester running around as an unkillable Knight of Hell." Crowley said flatly. "It's bad for business, it's bad for PR, and...well, from the looks of things you're the only one enjoying yourself. What would Sam say?" Crowley taunted. He chuckled to himself and shook his head again. He sighed like he couldn't quite believe the situation. "Anyway, you find a way to get rid of the mark of Cain and I'll keep the first blade hidden until then. The moment you work it out I'll be at your beck and call." Crowley paused to sip at his whiskey. "And it wouldn't hurt if you managed to rein him in a little."

"He wouldn't be out there right now if you hadn't tipped off those angels." Castiel growled.

Crowley gave him a considering look. "I don't think you understand the full extent of Dean's... _condition."_

Castiel narrowed his eyes and studied Crowley. He wasn't sure what Crowley was trying to lead him to but he had a feeling he wouldn't like it. "What do you mean, _the extent of his condition?"_

Crowley threw his head back and laughed, "Oh you silly little wingless ex-pigeon. Did you think you've been taming Dean Winchester with what's between your legs?"

Castiel felt his face flush, suddenly aware just how naked and vulnerable he was. He twisted on the bed and sat up. He drew his legs together. It was all he could do to cover himself.

Crowley snapped his fingers. A small stack of photos appeared in his hands. He held them up one by one as he talked. "I guess your precocious boyfriend forgot to tell you what he gets up to the moment he's alone."

Castiel's eyes went wide as Crowley shuffled through the pictures. Dean caught on security cameras, Dean in sharper pictures as if he had been followed. Each picture showed Dean killing someone or walking away from a body. There weren't many, not enough to leave a trail, not enough to raise suspicion but enough to make Castiel's heart ache. How could he have missed this?

"How long has he...?" Castiel asked. He knew Crowley would tell him since he stopped being careful to make sure Dean spent the night in a devil's trap. Crowley would tell him that just as he thought things were getting better they had actually been getting worse. The mark hadn't been quiet since they destroyed that nest of vampires. Dean had just been taking out the mark's frustrations in other ways. This would be his fault. He had let his guard down. He had let himself think that loving a demon could ever have an effect on them. He had let himself believe that _love_ could calm the mark. He was an idiot.

"Since that little massacre in that diner in Colorado." Crowley said. He tucked the pictures into his jacket.

Castiel felt like he had been slapped. His eyes went wide. Dean had been killing people the whole time?

"And the rose coloured glasses come off." Crowley said. He snorted. "Is it still worth the price?"

"What?" Castiel asked confused.

"Our favourite plaid covered squirrel." Crowley said. He swirled his whiskey one last time and finished it off.

Castiel looked at him puzzled.

Crowley slowly arched an eyebrow at him. He stared blanked face before bursting into unabashed laughter. It took a moment for him to collect himself. Even then he couldn't stop chuckling at Castiel. "You sold your soul for Dean Winchester and you didn't even notice?"

"I- I..." Castiel stammered. His insides turned cold. "I- I didn't. No."

Crowley snapped his fingers. He held a scroll. He opened it up. He cleared his throat, "What do you want, Cas? _You_. And sealed with a bit more than a kiss I might add."

Castiel felt his face go pale. He squeezed his eyes shut. Tears burned behind his eyelids. He hadn't. Dean wouldn't do that to him. Dean couldn't have done that to him. Dean had still been Dean that first time. He been so concerned for him. He had driven for hours to meet him; make sure he was okay. He had been gentle and concerned. That couldn't have been the mark. Crowley was lying. He had to be.

"Don't worry. The standard ten years doesn't apply to you. Dean wouldn't have it. You get him here for a life time and then forever in Hell. How romantic." Crowley said. He rolled the scroll back up and flicked his hand. It disappeared. He grimaced at the body of the angel on the floor. He flicked his hand again. The body on the floor disappeared. He made a quiet satisfied noise. He bent down and picked up the remote. He turned the vibrator back on. Castiel flinched and scowled at him. Crowley smirked and set the remote down out of reach. "I'll just let you get back to your fun." He wiggled his fingers at Castiel. "Toodles."

Crowley disappeared in a whirr of red smoke, closing the door behind him. Castiel stared at the closed door. Tears streamed down his cheeks. What if Crowley wasn't lying?

Dean came back a few hours later. It looked like Dean. It didn't look like the mark acting up. It looked like the man he had known for years. Dean's eyes widened when he heard the hum of the vibrator.

"Fuck. Sorry." Dean said. He hurried over to the bed and turned the vibrator off.

The vibrator had lost most of its power by now but it was still a relief to have it off. It had been relentless, dragging him to orgasm twice. He hadn't been able to reach it with his hands and he hadn't been able to force it out no matter how hard he tried. After the first hour Castiel had sighed and laid back down knowing he'd have to wait for Dean to return to get it out.

Dean eyed the come that had dried on Castiel's stomach and chest. He grinned. "Well, at least it wasn't a total waste."

Castiel rattled the handcuffs and stared at Dean coldly. "Take them off."

Dean's face dropped. He nodded. He took the key out of his pocket and unlocked the handcuffs. Castiel sat up and rubbed the feeling back into his hands.

"Sorry I left you high and dry." Dean said. He reached out to squeeze Castiel's shoulder. Castiel slipped away from the touch. Dean's eyes went wide and sad. "Cas?"

"Crowley was here." Castiel said flatly. He worked the plug out of his ass and tossed it aside.

Dean's face went blank. "What'd he say?"

Castiel had a speech planned in his head for this. A speech that would persuade Dean to step into a devil's trap until Sam could arrive and they could cure him even if it was only temporary. That speech went right out the window as soon as Dean had walked through the door. Castiel glared at him, "He _suggested_ that our first time was consummating a demon deal."

Dean's eyes slid away from him, a guilty look on his face. Castiel heaved in a wounded breath. Rage burned in his gut. He had been played from the very beginning. Everything he had done had been pointless. Everything he had suffered through had been futile. Everything he thought he had with Dean was worthless.

"You stole my soul." Castiel said flatly. His face turned red in anger. He shoved away from the bed and started yanking his clothes on.

"I didn't steal it." Dean pleaded. Castiel scowled at him. Dean clenched his jaw. He glared at Castiel. "It's not _stealing_ if you get what you paid for and here I am."

"You _knew_ I didn't know what you were!" Castiel snapped. In some distant corner of his mind he had hoped that his first time with Dean had been the mark because he would have much preferred to have been raped that first time then have his soul stolen from him by Dean; to have Dean know what he had done - that he had betrayed him - and feel guilty about it made his heart feel like it would split in two. "You knew I was exhausted and hurt and worn out! You knew how I felt about you! You knew! And you did it anyway!"

Castiel didn't know why he was so angry and surprised. Dean was a demon. What else would a demon do but lie? He should have never trusted Dean. He had let himself be blinded by love.

Dean looked at him sad and hurt. His lip trembled. He clenched his jaw again as tears fell from his eyes. "How the hell else was I supposed to make you _stay!?_ You never stay, Cas! There's always some ridiculous angel crap you get dragged into because you think you're the only one who can do anything! Even after I got your soul you still _left!_ I gave you _everything_ and you still _left!_ You always _leave!_ Every damn thing I care about always leaves or gets ripped away from me! I just wanted you to stay!"

Castiel rocked back like he had been slapped. He sucked in an angry breath, " _So you thought you'd damn my soul to_ **_Hell_** _!?"_

Castiel reeled his fist back. He knew it would hurt. Dean was the unmovable object these days, not him. He knew it would hurt and he didn't care. All this time Dean had been manipulating him. Dean had known he had stolen his soul and had acted like nothing had happened.

His fist hit Dean hard in the jaw. Dean turned his head with it but his entire arm felt like it had turned to jelly.

Dean turned back. His face burned red with anger. "It's gonna be like that, huh? After I gave you everything? After I saved you from those vampires? After I've taken care of you? Taught you to be human? Taught you to be a hunter?" Dean's hand snaked out and grabbed the arm Castiel was favouring. He twisted it, sending Castiel to his knees. Dean glared down at him, "After _everything_ I've _ever_ forgiven you for and the moment I make a mistake you try to give me the beat down? Well newsflash, Cas, you can't just knock me around anymore!"

"Dean. You're hurting me." Castiel gasped in pain as Dean kept the pressure on his arm. Dean twisted harder. Castiel's eyes bulged in pain. "Dean. _Please."_

" _Please."_ Dean scoffed. "You didn't stop when I said please."

Dean landed a punch to his face. Castiel rocked back with the blow. His vision went white. His head spun. Dean jerked him forward by the arm.

"Remember this, Cas?" Dean growled. He hit him again. Castiel lurched to the side. Dean hauled him back into place. "You remember beating me bloody on my knees? You didn't stop when I said please. You just kept going."

Castiel's head snapped back as Dean struck him again. The pain was blinding. Dean kept twisting his arm, Castiel was sure it was going to snap. Every twist made Castiel gasp. He begged, "Dean. My arm. Please don't. I healed you after. You won't be able to. Please, Dean."

"Oh? Does that make it better?" Dean said, voice dripping with poison. He twisted Castiel's arm a little bit more. Castiel cried out in pain. Dean didn't let his grip relax. He crouched down close to Castiel's face. His eyes turned black. "You broke my arm. Used my face as a punching bag. But you _healed_ me after, so it's all okay?"

"No! It's not okay! It was never okay!" Castiel said frantically to those black eyes. He tried to think of a way to get Dean to let go but he couldn't string his thoughts together coherently. How had the day turned so horribly wrong? The mark had caught up to them— no, Dean was the mark. Or had it been the mark all along? Or had it been Dean? Or had Sam been right? Or maybe this was his fault. His whole body shook. Dean narrowed his black eyes. Castiel cringed, "Healing you after didn't make it okay."

"Damn right." Dean said and hit him again. He dropped Castiel's arm and made a disgusted noise, "It's a two way goddamned street, Cas. We got each other. You don't get to blame this all on me. You asked for it."

Castiel slumped to the floor. He curled around himself and breathed hard. He flinched when he heard the door slam closed. He shook until the throbbing in his face was too much to ignore. He climbed to his feet and staggered to the bathroom. A sob ripped out of him when he saw what was staring back at him in the mirror; bloody, black and blue.

He wet a washcloth with cold water. He closed the toilet lid, sat down, and cried. Dean was a demon. He should have known it was all lies.


	6. Humility

_What I see hither tending, bears no trace of human semblance, nor of aught beside that my foil’d sight can guess._

_***_

Castiel flicked his eyes open in the dark. He slid his hand under his pillow and grabbed the gun with the devil's trap bullets. He sat up and pointed it at the dark shape on the end of the bed. Devil's trap bullets would work just as well on a human intruder as they would on a demon but Castiel doubted his intruder was human. He reached out to his right and turned the lamp on.

It had only been two days since Dean left and Castiel had known he would return to the motel. He had known Dean would come back looking for him.

Dean's eyes filled with pain when he saw Castiel's face. He turned away and stared down at the floor looking heartbroken. "Cas...I didn't..."

"You did. This is what you did." Castiel kept the gun trained on Dean. "Look at me, Dean."

Dean slowly raised his head. He winced when he saw Castiel's bruised face again. Tears welled up in his eyes. "I'm sorry. Sometimes the mark—"

"No." Castiel said sternly. "Don't blame this on the mark. You did this." He shifted towards the edge of the bed. "You could have stopped but you didn't. And you stole my soul. You could have told me what you had done. You could have confessed to me countless times over that you tricked me into selling my soul but you didn't." He kept the gun steady and on Dean as he swung his legs out of the bed. "You didn't even try to tell me. I had to hear it from Crowley."

"Cas..." Dean pleaded, full of sorrow. Tears dripped down his cheeks.

Castiel slid out of bed and set the gun down on the table. Dean stood to follow him. He took a step forward and slammed into the invisible wall of a devil's trap.

The sadness dropped like a rock from Dean's face, seething anger replaced it. His eyes burned at Castiel, "Let me out."

"No." Castiel said as he pulled his jeans on over his boxers. He knew Dean would come back. He knew Dean would look for him. He had taken advantage of that. He had laid a trap and baited it with himself.

" ** _Cas_** _."_ Dean growled. He slammed his fist into the invisible wall of the devil's trap. It made the air ripple and crack. " _Cas, you let me out of here **right now.** "_

"No, Dean. You've been hurting people despite my best efforts. I can't let you out of there." Castiel said. He checked his phone for the text Sam had sent saying how long he'd be. He hadn't told Sam to come right away. He had been too upset at first; felt too guilty to face Sam. He should have known there was something more wrong with Dean then the occasional fight for control. Dean had never been in control. He should have listened to Sam. "Sam's coming. He's bringing everything we need for the demon cure. We cured you once before, we can do it again."

"Right." Dean scoffed. "Because _that_ really stuck." Dean struck out at the invisible wall of the devil's trap again, it sent a ripple through the air. Dean shook his head. "Cas, just give it up. The cure? It's a stop gap measure. It isn't going to fix me. I'll still have the mark of Cain."

"But you won't be a demon." Castiel said. He had to hope the mark hadn't been moving Dean to murder even when he was human. He had to hope it was only this bad because demons relished violence and death. He had to hope.

"And how long before we're right back here again? Huh? You think it won't happen?" Dean asked. He leaned against the invisible wall of the devil's trap. "Because it will. It'll happen every time. Every time you turn me back I'll lose it and kill until I'm like this again. At least this way I can control it."

Castiel looked at him sadly. "You aren't in control, Dean."

"Cas. Trust me. This is me in control." Dean said earnestly.

"Yes, because you can't get out." Castiel retorted. He pulled a chair out and sat down to wait, careful to avoid the devil's trap that took up much of the room. He suspected this was going to be a very long wait.

"Look, I'm trying to be reasonable here, Cas." Dean said as if he could somehow talk his way out of having murdered people and stealing souls. "Just let me out and we can talk about this."

"There isn't anything to talk about." Castiel said. Hopefully Dean would exhaust himself by the time Sam arrived. Sam didn't need to hear the kinds of things Dean could say— _would_ say as a demon.

Dean looked at him balefully. He looked down at his feet and murmured, "What if when you turn me back I don't love you anymore?"

Castiel stiffened. He had known it would be hard if he caught Dean in the trap. He expected to hear his entire list of failures over again. He expected to hear every hateful thing a demon could possibly think of saying. But he hadn't expected that.

"I do, you know." Dean said, looking up at him through his eyelashes. He nudged at the devil's trap with his toe. Another little ripple went through the air. "I love you."

"No you don't." Castiel said, barely above a whisper. He hadn't yet come to terms with the fact that everything Dean had done over the past months was done under the influence of the mark. Everything they had shared had been tainted by the mark. Every  _good_ thing they'd had, had been tainted by the mark. He hadn't come to terms with that but he _did_ know it to be true. He wasn't a complete fool. "You can't. The mark is warping your judgment, not to mention you're a demon."

"A demon is just a human soul. You know that." Dean said. He turned his head up slowly. His eyes were wide and watery. "Human souls can love no matter how twisted they get."

Castiel turned a dark look on Dean. He had been prepared for cruelty to fall from Dean's lips but not this kind. Not the kind that was filled with sweet hope. He kept his face cold. He had to hope but he couldn't hope for that. It didn't matter if a demon loved him. It mattered that they had to cure Dean.

"Baby, don't look at me like that. I do. I love you so damn much." Dean said. His shoulders slumped. He let out a long pained breath like it physically hurt him to be so far away from Castiel. He toed at the devil's trap again. "I didn't mean to..." He nudged the devil's trap a little more. He sighed, "I love you."

Castiel feigned nonchalance but inside he felt like he was falling apart. He had wanted to hear those words so very badly - he had wanted to _say_ those words so very badly - and now he got them. Now when it didn't mean anything because Dean kept prodding the devil's trap checking for weaknesses. "If you love me so much then you'll do this for me. You'll let us cure you until we can find a way to get rid of the mark."

Dean huffed in annoyance and sat down on the bed. He looked up at Castiel, "Who's gonna get your contract if I'm not a demon? _Crowley?_ You know what he'll do to you?"

"Terrible things I imagine." Castiel said. He had wondered if when they cured Dean of his demonhood if the contract would be obsolete but he doubted it. This just confirmed what he already knew, fate and fortune never favoured him. Ownership of his soul would likely pass to Crowley and he doubted Crowley would be willing to part with it out of goodwill. He wasn't sure what he was more likely to succeed in, resuming the search for his grace or looking for a way out of a demon deal. Metatron or Crowley?

Castiel leaned forward in the chair. "But you love me?"

"Yeah." Dean said. A faint blush crept up his neck. "Yeah. I do. A lot."

"Then if you love me as much as you say you do, save me." Castiel said. It was a long shot but perhaps Dean's need to save everyone was still alive and well, hidden beneath layers of corruption. "Release me from the contract before we cure you."

Dean made a wounded noise, "...you don't want me anymore?" Tears welled up in his eyes again. "I gave you everything and you don't..." His lip quivered. "You don't want me."

"Don't." Castiel raised a hand for Dean to stop before he started. "You know that I wouldn't be here if I didn't care for you greatly. But I can't let you stay like this. I refuse to let you stay like this. It has nothing to do with my wants."

Dean blinked the tears away. His face went from utter heartbreak to calm and collected. Castiel leaned back into his chair. He could tell his chance to talk Dean into returning his soul had passed.

"What if I _want_ to be this?" Dean asked. His voice sounded clear and honest. Of course it did. "What if this is what _I_ want?"

"I know you, Dean." Castiel said. He knew more about Dean than he did any other human that had ever existed. "You don't want to be like this."

"I do. Really, Cas." Dean said earnestly. He swept his hand down his chest. He smacked his arm where the mark would be. "When I'm like this I'm not powerless anymore. I can _finally_ control my own fate. No more being jerked around by dick angels or demons or whatever else has made it its life mission this week to fuck around with me and the people I love."

Dean had more to say but Castiel ignored him. He settled into the chair. Sam would be at least another sixteen hours. It would be a long wait.

Castiel startled awake when something latched around his ankle and yanked him out of the chair. He let out a yelp of surprise and a groan of pain when his tailbone collided with the floor. He was jerked forward. He flung his arms out desperately trying to grab something before his brain could explain what was happening.

He tried to piece together what was going on. He had trapped Dean. Dean had tried to get him to let him go with apologies and threats and promises. Then...he'd fallen asleep. It all flashed through Castiel's mind in a split second. He'd fallen asleep in the chair just outside the devil's trap. _Idiot!_

Basic human weakness had left him prey _again!_ Why hadn't he _learned?  
_

He kicked wildly and caught hold of the table. It came sliding towards the bed with him. It crashed over. Castiel's eyes whipped frantically around for the gun. It had been on the table. Where had it fallen to? Could he reach it?

"Devil's trap is useless if you stick your feet into it." Dean snarled. He hauled Castiel up onto the bed, grinning like a wolf.

"Let me go, Dean!" Castiel growled. He jerked his knee up and tried to catch Dean in the balls. Dean had told him it was a _'low'_ tactic but it was also a very _effective_ tactic. On humans at least. Dean pulled away easily.

"Or what?" Dean laughed. He manhandled Castiel until he had him pinned down to the bed; arms above his head caught up with one hand and legs trapped beneath Dean's weight. Dean chuckled to himself, "You're always so easy. I just—" Dean snapped the fingers of his free hand. "And I got you laid out under me."

Castiel stared up at him defiantly. "You'll never forgive yourself if you hurt me."

"Hurt you?" Dean said, looking genuinely surprised for a moment before he smirked. He pat Castiel's cheek. "Thought you'd had worse as an angel. Wimping out on me here, Cas? Thought you could handle a little rough and tumble."

"Let. Me. Go." Castiel bit out. He stayed still. Fighting had always made it worse. Or was that maybe what Dean had always wanted? For him to not fight?

"Break the devil's trap." Dean said casually.

" _No."_ Castiel growled. He wasn't going to let Dean out to do things he'd regret. He had made enough mistakes. He wouldn't make another one.

Dean let Castiel's arms go and sat back on Castiel's knees. Castiel brought his arms down and gripped the bed sheets. Even with his arms free he had no illusions about his ability to push Dean off. If he was getting out of the devil's trap it wouldn't be by force, it would be by cunning.

Dean drummed his fingers on Castiel's stomach. He shrugged, "Then I guess it's just you and me stuck in a devil's trap until Sam comes."

"Don't do this, Dean." Castiel said. He could see that slinking predatory look in Dean's eyes. He would have said it was the mark before but now he knew it was _Dean_ because Dean was a _demon_. How had he been such a _fool?_

"Do what?" Dean said. He shrugged again. "We're just talking."

Castiel pressed his lips into a thin line. There was nothing he wanted to talk to Dean about. Not while he was like this. Not while he was a demon under the influence of the mark of Cain.

"Void the contract and I'll let you out." Castiel said sternly. It was obviously a trick but maybe Dean would think it was too ridiculous to be anything but genuine. "Give me my soul back. Release me and I'll release you."

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck as if he was embarrassed about the whole thing. "Look, I'm sorry about letting you sell your soul and not telling you." Dean said. He looked down at Castiel hopefully. He reached out and settled a hand over top of one of Castiel's hands still clenched in the blankets. "I was gonna tell you— _eventually._ I was trying to ease you into it." Dean glanced away. His face clouded over in anger. "Knew Crowley was gonna be a pain in my ass eventually."

Castiel kept still and tried to keep the rage from his face. Did this demon - _did Dean -_ really think _sorry_ would make him pliant? That he could _ease_ him into letting his soul be damned?

Dean looked back down. Surprise sprung onto his face, "What?"

Castiel turned his head away.

Dean grabbed his jaw and turned Castiel's face back to him. He stroked his thumb over his jaw where a bruise had formed, dark and purple. He leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on it. He sat back up. "Come on, Cas. What is it?"

Castiel glared at him and kept his mouth shut. Dean's eyes narrowed. Castiel thought they might turn black but instead Dean dug his thumb into his jaw. Castiel winced and tried to pull away.

" _Cas."_ Dean warned. Castiel stilled. Dean kept the pressure up on Castiel's jaw. "Two way street, remember? This doesn't work if you don't talk to me."

Castiel reached up and pushed at Dean's hand. Dean let his jaw go. Castiel pushed himself up so he was sitting almost at eye level instead of flat on his back. Dean's weight still pinned his legs. He gave Dean a cold look but inside his fears were running wild.

"You thought you could just _ease me into_ the fact you stole my soul?" Castiel said. He tried to make his voice sound harsh and deeply disappointed. He tried to sound in charge. Dean liked that tone. Dean liked when he sounded in charge. Maybe he could use that. Maybe he could make  _Dean_ the pliant one. "You think _sorry_ is all it'll take to earn my forgiveness?"

Dean gulped at the tone of voice. His eyes went wide. He shook his head no. He pulled his hands back to himself and squirmed down Castiel's legs, letting him sit up the rest of the way. There was a spark of anticipation in Dean's eyes. Dean _liked_ that tone of voice but the question was, would it be enough?

Castiel slowly pulled his legs out from under Dean— more appropriately, Dean let him. He backed up the bed once his legs were free. He didn't dare glance to the side to look for the gun. He tried to find it in his peripheral vision. All he could see was the toppled over table. He was going to have to try to bolt from the bed and make it out of the devil's trap before Dean caught him again.

He doubted he'd make it.

He flinched when Dean leaned forward, running his hands up Castiel's legs. Castiel's heart raced with fear. Dean slinked up his legs. Castiel put his hands out and caught Dean's shoulders. He pushed firmly. Dean stopped for him. 

Castiel did his best to keep his breath even. "No."

"Why _not?"_ Dean said, nearly in a whine. He picked at Castiel's belt. "Come on, Cas. Please? I said I was sorry about the deal. It doesn't have to change anything. We could pick up where we left off."

"No." Castiel said again. He pried Dean's fingers from his belt. "Everything is different now. It's already changed."

Dean sat up and huffed, " _Why?"_

"Dean, two days ago you beat me black and blue." Castiel said. He glared at Dean when he opened his mouth to deny it. "Do _not_ try to make me believe you don't remember."

Dean rolled his eyes. "As if you haven't done that to me before." He started pulling at Castiel's belt again. Castiel put his hands over Dean's and gave him a stern look. Dean stopped and huffed, "Seriously? Come _on,_ Cas. If we never forgave each other over a little bit of bloody knuckles and the occasional knife to the chest we'd be neck deep in the apocalypse by now."

"You stole my soul." Castiel said.

"You made Sam crazy." Dean retorted.

"You raped me." Castiel said.

Dean shrugged, "You shot me in the heart." He shook Castiel's hands off his own and started pulling Castiel's belt off. "If you really want to list every mistake we both ever made we can." He popped the button out of Castiel's jeans and dragged the zipper down. "Or, and I like the or better, you keep up the Commander Cas voice and we have some fun." He rubbed Castiel's cock through his boxers. "What do ya say? Quick role in the sheets then you can let me out of the devil's trap and we can talk about this like adults."

Castiel tried to squirm farther back and away. "Let me out first and—"

Dean grabbed his hips and dragged him down the bed. Castiel yelped and grabbed onto the blankets. They didn't slow him down.

Dean leaned over him. "I'm trying here, Cas. I'm _really_ trying to be reasonable about this. You _know_ I'm not letting you go before you let me out of the devil's trap. You _know_ I'm not gonna just give up your soul." He pressed a kiss against Castiel's lips. "So either get on board with the program or try to make your daring escape."

Castiel's eyes flicked over Dean. He tried to make his daring escape. _Tried_ being the keyword. He didn't even make it to the edge of the bed.

Dean yanked Castiel's belt off and caught up both his hands. Before Castiel could say a word in protest his hands were tied up and the belt tied off to the headboard. Dean tore the sleeve of each side of his shirt then ripped it down the middle. He tugged the shredded rag out from under him. He yanked Castiel's jeans and boxers off next. Castiel tried to knee him again. It didn't work.

Dean caught Castiel's legs, separated them, and shoved them up as he crawled between them. He glanced over at Castiel's bag outside the devil's trap. He looked down at Castiel. "How about, you break the devil's trap and I get some lube?"

" ** _No_** _."_ Castiel growled. "I'm _not_ letting you out of here."

"It's gonna hurt." Dean said, rubbing his fingers over Castiel's hole.

"You don't have to do this." Castiel said. He tried to be firm but he knew it came out as pleading. "You're better than this. You can fight this. This isn't you."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You've been watching too much tv." Dean put his free hand over Castiel's mouth then shoved a finger in all the way. Castiel gasped but it didn't hurt that much. One finger wasn't a lot. Dean shifted to get a better angle. "This isn't some soap opera drama where you make the big speech about how this isn't me and it snaps me out of it." He pumped his finger in and out. "It doesn't work like that in real—" Dean paused in surprise. A smile ticked at his face. "Shit." He looked down at Castiel as if he had just had an epiphany.

"Alright, so it works for angels." Dean said. He shook his head and chuckled, "Fuck, I'm dense sometimes. I mean, come on. I need you? Mind control? Brainwashing? That is straight out of a telenovela."

Dean pressed in a second finger all the way. Castiel breathed hard against Dean's hand. Two fingers burned. Dean drew them out slowly, studying Castiel's face. "I spent two years after that wringing my hands trying to figure out how you felt." He laughed ruefully. "Coulda done this a lot sooner if we had both just gotten our heads out of our asses and fessed up."

Dean took his fingers out all the way. Castiel huffed in relief from the pain. Dean took his hand away to kiss him, a quick press of lips and swipe of tongue just barely probing inside, then put his hand back. "Alright, so it works. But I'm not brainwashed. You don't gotta try and snap me out of anything because there isn't anything to snap me out of. This is me, Cas." Dean pressed a kiss to his forehead. "And I love you."

Dean shoved all four fingers into him.

Castiel let out a muffled yell of pain against Dean's hand.

Dean kept pushing his fingers forward. Castiel could feel the ridges of Dean's first knuckles pressing hard against him. Castiel's breath was quick and rushed, his eyes were wide with pain. What if Dean tried to push his whole hand in?

Dean held his fingers still. He smiled slyly down at Castiel. "What'd you say, Cas? Sixteen hours? We've already wasted three. That means thirteen hours to go before Sam gets here." He jammed his fingers in a bit deeper, his knuckles pressed at Castiel's rim. Dean licked his lips. "What do you think? You think you can make thirteen hours before Sam ruins the moment? You're pretty tough. You might make it."

Dean flexed his fingers inside Castiel's ass. Castiel squeezed his eyes shut as pain pulsed through him from his rim. Tears welled up in his eyes. Dean leaned in to whisper in his ear, "It doesn't have to be like this. You break the devil's trap and we can go. Anywhere you want. We could rent one of those swanky log cabins millionaires go to and have that little honeymoon those dick angels and Crowley wrecked." Dean pulled his fingers out and watched Castiel pant in pain. He took his hand away from Castiel's mouth. "So what's it gonna be, Cas? Pleasure or pain? I'm pretty good at both."

Castiel was still gasping for air as if the added oxygen would heal his pain. He stared up at Dean. Dean's eyes had stayed clear and bright and green the whole time. It hadn't been the mark of Cain causing him pain, not directly anyway. This was Dean. This was forty years of Hell festering below the surface just as much as it was nearly forty years of living in the world of hunting. Twisted and demonic as he was, this was Dean.

What would be worse? If he let Dean out he would kill again. If he didn't he'd— if he didn't, well, at least he could forgive him. Who would forgive Dean for murdering yet another innocent? He couldn't let Dean out. He had laid his trap thinking he could outsmart and outmaneuver a demon and now he was paying the price for his hubris. He had known what would happen if his trap failed and he had gambled anyway.

Castiel opened his mouth. Dean tilted his head and smiled. He tapped Castiel playfully on the nose. "Careful now, Cas. You're not an angel anymore. You won't be able to turn off the pain."

Castiel clenched his jaw. He tried to summon up a determined look. It was hard. He knew what he was in for if he told Dean he wasn't breaking the devil's trap. He knew what Dean was capable of, he had pulled him out of Hell and he had lived with him as a demon. He knew. What had happened in the impala those months ago would be nothing in comparison. Whatever reason Dean had for that he hadn't been trapped. Dean had done it for his own reasons then. Now? Now, Dean was trying to escape, to save the life he thought he wanted to live. Dean would be desperate to get out. Dean would do anything to get out. Dean would do anything and he knew what that meant.

"I'm not breaking the trap." Castiel said. It sounded like a death sentence.

Dean sighed, "I thought you'd say that." He brushed his finger through Castiel's hair then covered Castiel's mouth again. Castiel felt himself start to hyperventilate with the fear of what was coming. He stared up at Dean and pleaded with his eyes. Dean gave him a sad smile. "Just because you said no now doesn't mean you can't break it later." He shoved all four fingers back in. Castiel's breath punched out of him as pain shot through his core. Dean slid his thumb in with his fingers and flexed. "You're the one in control here, Cas. You can stop this whenever you want. You just remember that. This can all stop when you want it to."

Four hours before Sam was likely to arrive Castiel knew he was going to break the devil's trap. He had thought he was stronger than that but as it turned out he was weak. He couldn't do it. He couldn't bear every pain Dean dealt out to him, physical or otherwise, not as a human where every nerve could just keep hurting no matter how much he wanted it to stop, not when even _words_ physically hurt.

So he was weak and he'd break the trap. Sam would never forgive him and when they finally cured him neither would Dean. He might say he did but Dean would know that he couldn't hold out for just a few more hours to save him. So he was weak and he shook and he whimpered and he failed.

Castiel mumbled through the gag that Dean had stuffed in his mouth and tied around his head an hour into his ordeal. Dean looked up and narrowed his eyes at him. He twisted his thumb into a bruise as he tugged the gag down. Castiel trembled, "I'll do it. I'll break it. Just stop. _Please."_

Dean stopped at his newest method of pain and smiled softly at him. He reached up and loosened the belt that held Castiel's hands until he was pulling it away. He gathered Castiel up in his arms. Castiel whimpered in pain. He hugged Castiel tight to his chest and pressed kisses into his hair. "Shhh. It's fine. You're fine, Cas. It's over. I told you, you're the one in control. All you had to do was say you'd break the trap and it would stop." He pet Castiel's hair. "See? You said you would and I stopped."

Castiel couldn't stop shaking. He had failed. All he needed to do was hold out for a few more hours and he couldn't do it. If he hadn't already cried out all his tears he would have cried again.

Dean shifted him around until he had him tucked in tight against his chest. He slid to the edge of the bed and leaned Castiel down far enough so he could scratch out the spray paint on the cheap motel carpet. Dean stuck his foot across the line, testing. He hugged Castiel to his chest again. "Love you. Knew you wouldn't leave me trapped in here." He laid him out on the bed. He pressed another kiss against Castiel's forehead.

All Castiel could do was lay there and shake. He couldn't keep his thoughts together long enough to take inventory of his body. There was too much pain everywhere. He heard Dean walk away then the sink in the bathroom turned on. Dean came back out with a plastic cup of water. Dean tried to get him to drink it. He couldn't. Every time Dean came near him he shook. He couldn't keep still long enough to drink and he thought he might throw it up anyway just from the way his nerves felt flayed raw.

Dean sighed and set the cup down. He grabbed the belt off the bed and then reached for Castiel's hand.

As raw and aching and exhausted as he felt Castiel still jerked away. It didn't help. It never helped. He was always too slow. Dean caught his hands and tied them back up to the headboard with the belt.

"Y- you said you'd st- stop." Castiel trembled out. Fear crackled under his skin. What if Dean decided not to? He wouldn't be able to do a single thing about it. Dean could do whatever he wanted. He had broken the trap and Dean was going to just keep hurting him.

Dean leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I know. I'm stopping. Don't think you could have taken much more without breaking anyway." He looked down fondly at him. "And I don't wanna break you, Cas. I love you." He gently ran his fingers over the bruises on Castiel's jaw. "I'm just thinking."

Castiel didn't know what Dean meant by _thinking_ and he didn't care if it meant Dean wasn't going to start trying to make him hurt again. It was pathetic. As an angel he had spent years enduring unspeakable pain and yet a few hours of human pain and he gave up. A few hours of human pain and he was a shaking wreck.

The bed shifted as Dean stood up. Castiel watched Dean dress. He swallowed and cringed. His throat felt raw. He should have tried harder to drink the water Dean had offered him. Castiel watched Dean start packing up Castiel's things. Castiel's heart pounded in his chest. Dean was going to kidnap him. Dean was going to kidnap him and chain him up somewhere and this was just the start of some new miserable life Dean had planned. He'd never survive that.

"Sam will look for us. He'll find me." Castiel rasped. God, he hoped Sam would find him.

Dean turned and gave him a puzzled look. "Yeah...it's a little hard to miss the naked fallen angel in the motel room." He stooped down and picked up the gun with the devil's trap bullets.

Castiel blinked in confusion at him, "...you're leaving me?"

Dean shouldered Castiel's duffle bag. He gave Castiel a stern look as if being left was a punishment. "I said I'd never send you away, didn't say a damn thing about leaving. Guess you'll get to find out how it feels." Dean stepped over to the bed and tied the gag back around Castiel's head. He pat his cheek then left.

Castiel stared at the door. None of it felt real. None of it. His entire existence. How had it come to this point? How had he watched stars being born only to end up bloody and abused in a motel room— _human._ He had stopped the apocalypse. He had unleashed untold horrors from Purgatory and then sent them back from whence they came. Now he was immobilized by a piece of leather thirty six inches long and an inch and a half wide.

A laugh erupted from him, muffled by the gag. It was followed by a second one. It turned into outright hysterical laughter. How very far he had fallen. How very completely. He had been an angel. Now he was human and a demon owned his soul. Somewhere in there the laughter turned into broken sobs. How very far he had _fallen._ He had been an  _angel._ He cried without tears until he passed out.

He woke to the sound of the motel room door rattling softly. Fear shot through him as he thought, _Dean._ But it was replaced with dread when he realized, _Sam._

Sam was going to see him like this; bloody and disgusting. Sam was going to know. Sam was going to know exactly what his brother was capable of, how far gone he was.

Castiel tugged frantically at the belt. It didn't give.

He heard the quiet sound of the door clicking open and boots treading lightly into the room. He closed his eyes and held his breath trying to stay calm. He couldn't bear to look at Sam. He couldn't bear to see the look on Sam's face when he saw that he had failed.

"...oh jesus."

The sound of boots thundered across the room.

Castiel flinched when a hand was planted on his chest right over his heart. His eyes snapped opened. Sam was looking down at him with wide panicked eyes.

Sam's hand shot up to the gag and pulled it out. He started tugging at the knot of the belt. "Jesus Christ. I thought- fuck- you looked-"

Once his hands were free Sam helped him sit up. Castiel pointed to the plastic cup of water on the bedside stand. Sam snatched it up and offered it to him. Castiel took it in shaky hands and gulped it down. It hurt to swallow. Sam watched him with worried eyes. Castiel kept his own eyes fixed on the plastic cup.

Sam looked around the room. "Where's your bag?"

"Dean took it." Castiel said.

Sam nodded. "I'll be back in a second." He strode out of the room.

Castiel set the empty cup down and eased himself off the bed. He set his feet on the floor. It hurt. He pushed himself up off the bed. That hurt too. Each step to the bathroom was like a knife into him, driving up from his heel and straight up his spine. He made it to the bathroom before Sam got back. He turned the shower on and stepped in. He cringed at the idea of using soap on his raw skin. He'd just stand under the warm spray and let it do its best to wash away the variety of bodily fluids he was covered in.

From what he had seen of movies and tv most people seemed to pick this moment to cry again. It was likely a symbolic act, letting the emotional wreckage drain away with the evidence of the physical damage, but mostly he just felt tired.

He stepped out of the shower when the water ran cold. He wrapped himself in towels then braced himself to go back out into the room and face Sam. He stood in front of the door for a while before he worked up the courage to open it.

When he did open the bathroom door Sam was waiting with a pile of clothes. Castiel took them and retreated to the bathroom again. The sweatpants were soft but too big. He tucked the bottoms of the legs into the tops of the socks, also too big. The t-shirt was long and loose and the sweater hung off him. The sweater made him feel like he was drowning. He quickly had it off again.

Then he was standing in front of the bathroom door once more. He breathed deeply and pushed it open. Sam was still there. He clutched at the too big sweater and stayed where he was. He didn't want to go near that bed. He didn't want to step further into the room. He wanted _out._

Sam stared at him with sad guilty eyes. He shook his head, "God...I'm sorry, Cas. I shoulda gotten here sooner."

"It's not your fault." Castiel said quietly. It was his. He had fallen asleep. He had let his guard down and Dean had taken advantage of that. It was his fault for not noticing something was wrong in the first place. This was all his fault. It just made him want to leave even more, flee from the evidence of his failure.

"Don't." Sam said, sounding angry. "Don't. Damn it. Don't do exactly what we do every time. This wasn't your fault either."

Castiel looked away. It was. But he didn't have the energy to argue with Sam. He just wanted to go.

"You need to go to a hospital." Sam said.

Castiel shook his head, "I'll be fine. Let's just go."

"Cas. You _need_ to see a doctor." Sam said more firmly. "You looked like— You need to go to a hospital."

"I'll be fine, Sam. I was fine last time." Castiel said. He looked down to the floor. Why couldn't they just _go?_ He twisted his fingers into the sweater. "I just need some antibiotics and preferably a strong painkiller and some rest."

"Last time."

Castiel's eyes flicked up. He had never heard that tone of voice from Sam before. Sam looked utterly appalled. Castiel shrunk into himself. That look made him want to step backwards into the bathroom and hide.

"Last time." Sam repeated. He brought his hands up and ran them through his hair. He held his head like that for a moment. "This has happened before?" He looked to Castiel. Castiel looked away. Sam let his breath out in an explosion and dropped his hands to his side. "He did this to you and you didn't _tell me?_ How many times has this _happened?"_ Sam's face went pale. "...all those times you hung up on the phone...was he..." Sam motioned towards the bed where he had found Castiel.

"No. He never‒ it wasn't always like that." Castiel said. If only it had been. He would have kept a closer eye or demanded they use the demon cure. He would have known something was wrong. "He was gentle most of the time."

Sam breathed out like he was punched in the stomach. "It's still _rape_ even if it's _gentle."_

Castiel felt his face turn red. "It...umm..." He twisted the sweater in his hands. "Well, in retrospect it all seems very questionable but at the time...it wasn't...we...I wanted... _that."_

"You wanted..." Sam repeated the words slowly. He narrowed his eyes while he processed the information. "Were you...? And Dean...?"

Castiel was sure his entire body must be red. "...well..." He shrugged. "... _yes."_

Sam's eyes went wide.

Castiel curled his toes and shifted on the spot. He didn't want to be in the motel room anymore and he didn't particularly want to have this conversation any longer. "...obviously we've had some disagreements in the last few days."

Sam jerked his head back and shook it. The shake of his head turned into more of a full body shake, like a dog ridding its fur of water. "And you didn't think maybe you should _mention_ that you were‒ and Dean was..." He ran his hands through his hair again. "Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

Castiel cringed. It felt like all those cold hard spikes Dean had driven into him with words were splitting his chest open. Retreating to the bathroom felt like a good idea though he knew it was ridiculous. It wouldn't do him any good. He'd just be in the bathroom feeling like this. "I wasn't sure how to bring it up appropriately." Castiel said. He watched Sam breathe in and out slowly a few times. "...are you mad?"

Sam shook his head. "No." He shook his head again. "I'm not mad. Just...why didn't you _say_ anything? If you had just said something..." He breathed slowly. It was followed by another head shake. "I could have stopped this. Would have told you to wait until we got Dean back. Sleeping with demons hasn't exactly gone over well in this family." Sam pressed his fingers to his forehead. "I could have..." He sighed in defeat. "The local hospital isn't far from here."

Castiel nodded and hoped they weren't going to talk about this anymore, not now at least. Sam's eyes flicked over him again. Sam clenched his jaw and looked away, he started for the door. Castiel turned and followed him out to his car. They didn't talk about it.

The drive to the hospital was quiet. Sam would glance at him from time to time but he didn't say anything and Castiel was thankful for it. People stared at him in the emergency room while Sam talked to the nurse on duty. He hadn't stopped to assess his injuries in the bathroom but based on how people stared they must look worse than what they were. He knew he wasn't seriously wounded, everything just hurt.

Sam filled out a form for him and then a nurse asked him to follow her and if he'd like Sam to come with them.

"Do you want me to come?" Sam asked gently.

Castiel gave a half-hearted shrug. What he wanted was to sleep. "If you'd like."

Sam sighed but followed them down the hall just the same.

Castiel sat on a hospital bed and let the nurse poke and prod. She asked questions. Mostly he didn't answer them because he couldn't tell her that his injuries were demonic in origin and that said demon was actually a good man twisted and corrupted by the mark of Cain. Or, at least, he thought it was a good idea not to mention any of that. It seemed like the sort of thing that humans would mistake for mental illness instead of truth.

There were three wounds the nurse declared needed stitches. A doctor came to put the stitches in and asked all the same questions the nurse had while she worked and then poked and prodded all the same places a second time. He was beginning to understand why the news said sexual assault was under-reported. He'd just had someone forcefully take control of his body and now these strangers wanted him to give up control again and let them touch and press his aching flesh.

The doctor wanted to take blood and encouraged him to talk to a counsellor on their staff. Castiel didn't see the point in blood work. Dean was a demon, human diseases wouldn't infect him and what could he possibly say to the counsellor that wouldn't make his position seem worse? He was exhausted, cold, and hungry and they just wanted him to talk about something he couldn't explain to them without drawing them into the world of hunting.

When the doctor asked if he'd like to press legal charges Castiel sighed loudly and looked at Sam. "Sam, can we please _go?"_

Sam studied him carefully. His face dropped into a frown. He sighed too. "Alright. Let's go."

The doctor wrote out three prescriptions for him. Castiel passed them to Sam. They filled them out and left. Castiel was glad for it. He was sick of people asking the same questions and poking and prodding him as if they couldn't tell bruised and swollen flesh hurt.

Sam drove all night stopping once to get gas and eat - Castiel picked at his food - and a second time to give away the blood he had brought to cure Dean. The blood went to a vampire Sam knew had sworn to never kill humans again. Castiel slept for much of the time.

He was half awake when Sam stopped the car a third time. He sat up and looked around. Castiel had never been in the garage bay of the bunker before but as exhausted as he was he could see why Dean had appreciated it. It was spacious. The impala would fit nicely inside.

Sam led him out of the garage and through the bunker. "You want something to eat? Or drink?"

"No." Castiel said, shaking his head. "I'd like to go to bed."

Sam nodded and kept walking. It didn't go unnoticed by Castiel that Sam stopped in front of a bedroom the furthest possible from Dean's room. Sam turned the light on.

"Thank you, Sam." Castiel said. He stepped into the room. It was empty except for the decades old furniture and dust.

Sam cleared his throat. Castiel closed his eyes for a moment. Sam wanted to talk about it again. He breathed deeply and turned to look at him.

"Is there anything else I should know?" Sam asked mechanically.

A shock of anger went through him. All the pain he had dealt with over the last day and he had forgotten what had started it all. If it didn't hurt so much he'd clench his jaw in anger. He squared his shoulders and stood straight, the image he cut had to be less than intimidating. He was still in Sam's too big clothes and was covered in bruises. "Crowley does indeed have the first blade and I unintentionally made a deal with Dean."

"A deal? With Dean?" Sam asked, confused. His eyes flicked back and forth then went wide. "A _demon_ deal?"

Castiel set his hand against Sam's chest and pushed him out of the doorway. "Yes."

"For what?" Sam asked, even more confused.

"For him." Castiel said. He closed the door before Sam could ask him more.

He leaned against the door. He heard Sam's footsteps march away then stop. He jumped at the sound of glass smashing to the floor. Sam's footsteps started up again until they faded away in the halls of the bunker.

Castiel turned the light off and felt his way over to the bed. He pulled the covers back and crawled in. According to Sam he slept for seventeen hours.

The next few days passed in a blur of sleep and painkillers; Sam waking him up to make sure he ate, drank, and took the pills the doctor had prescribed.

When he had the wherewithal to process the last week he dragged his aching self into the bathroom and stared at what was looking back at him in the mirror. No wonder people had been staring at him in the emergency room. A week to heal hadn't hidden the bites, cuts, and bruises that covered him nearly from head to toe.

He ran his fingers along some of the darker bruises and his stitches. He didn't actually remember what in particular Dean had done to any given part of him just that it had, without fail, hurt. It had hurt and Dean had kept up a near constant commentary about how very lucky he was that _anyone_ loved him. How very lucky he was that _Dean_ loved him because he had killed so many more people - angel and human - than Dean ever had.

As much as he knew that Dean had only said it to hurt him and drive a spear of self-doubt into his heart he also knew it was true. That was why it had hurt as much as it had. He had in fact killed several thousand if not innocent then _mostly_ innocent people. People who hadn't deserved it. It didn't forgive Dean of the people _he_ had killed but it did make him think that he deserved the pain Dean had dealt out to him. A year in Purgatory could never be penance enough. He had caused pain and suffering to thousands. It would take pain and suffering to atone for what he had done. If anything he hadn't suffered enough for what he had done.

At least, that was what he told himself; that his pain and suffering had ultimately served a greater purpose.

Sam disagreed with the philosophy but then Sam had never single-handedly unleashed primordial monsters on an unsuspecting earth or committed genocide against his own kind.

They argued about the ethics of forgiveness until they came to the unspoken agreement to not talk about it anymore.

They didn't talk about Dean either.

Castiel knew Sam was still working on a way to remove the mark and that he had begun to track Dean's movements but Sam never brought it up and never asked for help. Castiel also knew that Sam had met with Crowley at least once but he wasn't sure if that was to try and get the blade or if Sam had tried to break the deal he had made with Dean.

Castiel spent his own time putting hunts together for other hunters and trying not to think about Dean or how a demon still owned his soul. He couldn't do anything about it unless Dean wanted to void the contract and Dean didn't want to void the contract. Worrying about it would be an exercise in futility.

So he put hunts together, he ate, he slept, bought new clothes yet again, and accompanied Sam to the grocery store occasionally. Generally speaking he was fine. Sometimes there were nightmares but mostly he was fine.

He was fine. It was over. It had stopped. He was the one in control.

At least, that was what he told himself.


	7. Caritas

_As avarice quench’d our love of good, without which is no working; thus here justice holds us prison’d, hand and foot chain’d down and bound._

_***_

Castiel woke up gasping for breath in the dark. He could still feel the phantom squeeze of Dean's hands around his throat. He reached out for his glass of water, promptly knocking it from the bedside table to the floor where it shattered to pieces.

"Shit." Castiel swore as he reached for his lamp. He turned it on. He squinted and blinked against the light. When his eyes could focus he was greeted with the sight of water and glass everywhere. At least the bunker's floors were concrete.

He rolled to the other side of the bed and slipped out. He picked his way carefully around the broken glass and went to the kitchen for a broom, a dustpan, and paper towel. He carried it all back and set about cleaning the floor.

When he had a garbage pail full of wet paper towels and glass he sat down on the edge of his bed. He rubbed at his forehead and repeated what he always did after a nightmare these days.

"I'm fine. It's over." His forehead wrinkled at the lie. It wasn't _really_ over. It wouldn't ever be over until they found a way to stop Dean and remove the mark. But his own nightmare? That was over. He wasn't trapped in a motel room with a demon. He was fine.

He let out a long slow breath. "It was only a nightmare. I'm fine."

One hand dropped down to the silvery white spider web scar of a vampire bite on his neck and, not for the first time since Dean had left him bound and bloody in that motel room, he wondered if the reason why Dean was so intent on revenge against vampires was because Dean himself had set those vampires after him.

Had Dean only been cleaning up loose ends when he killed vampires? It made a twisted kind of sense. The kind of sense a demon would have. Maneuver him into a life or death situation and sweep in to save him. He wondered if Dean had always meant to let the vampires take it that far. He had nearly died there. Dean had rescued him and nursed him back to health but it meant nothing if Dean had set him up in the first place.

It meant nothing either way. Dean had saved him for his own ends. Everything Dean had done from that first phone call had been for his own ends.

Castiel gripped the side of his neck tight, waiting until he felt dizzy before he let go. Human bodies were so fragile. Just a small amount of pressure against his neck could render him unconscious, a bit more could kill him. He shivered. He could feel Dean's fingers around his throat, never squeezing hard enough to apply that last bit of pressure. What end did it serve Dean to have left him alive?

He shook the thought from his head and rubbed at his eyes. He looked at the small alarm clock on the bedside table. It was after three in the morning. Sam would be asleep. Sam _should_ be asleep. Sam didn't always sleep through the night either.

Castiel stood up and crept down the dark hallway to Sam's room. He cracked the door open and listened carefully. He could hear the steady rhythm of Sam breathing in the dark. He closed the door and went further down the hall. He stopped in front of room 11.

Dean's room.

He pushed the door open and turned on the light. He stepped in and closed the door behind him. He stopped and let his eyes slide across each item in the room. A familiar feeling thrummed through him. Homesickness. But this room had never been his home and the Dean that had occupied it had never been his.

He walked past the dresser. He trailed his fingers through the dust that had settled there. He wiped his hand on his pants ‒ a habit he had picked up from Dean ‒ and moved on to the desk. His eyes settled on the picture of Dean and his mother. They had tried to save her once but fate had intervened.

Castiel stared at a smiling Mary Winchester. He had never looked for her in Heaven but he hoped that her deal with Azazel hadn't damned her soul. He sucked in a sharp breath. If he died right now he knew where his own soul was going. He looked away from the happy photo and said a prayer for the soul of Mary Winchester.

There was no response. Not that he ever expected one.

He sat down on Dean's bed and slowly laid out on top of the blankets. Before Dean had taken on the mark of Cain he had told him in length about the joys of memory foam. Castiel found it tended to give him lower back pain. And the name was misleading. The mattress did not in fact remember him— or anyone else.

He stared up at the ceiling and let the memories of the last bed he had shared with Dean wash over him. That particular nightmare was over too but it didn't feel like it in the middle of the night when he was alone.

"It's over. I'm the one in control." Castiel whispered to the empty room. His eyes burned. He squeezed them shut and blinked away tears. "And I broke the devil's trap." He croaked through tears. It was the one thing he had been in control of that night and he had been weak and let a demon out. It was his fault Dean was out there now.

Dean's voice whispered at the back of his head, _Love you. Knew you wouldn't leave me trapped in here._

His throat felt tight. He wasn't sure if it was the memory of Dean's hands on his neck or the force of emotion that wanted to rip from his throat.

His eyes slowly opened to stare up at the ceiling. He pushed his sweatpants down his hips then slipped his hand under his shirt and pushed it up. He brought his hand back down to the waist of his pants. He dragged his fingers low over his stomach and up his chest. They played over a map of scars.

Sam had removed his stitches weeks ago but the scars remained. Sam had assured him that all the scars faded eventually. Castiel knew that in a logical way but he couldn't bring himself to believe it. What had been an unmarred vessel was now a story of pain he read every time he looked down at his bare skin or let his fingers glide over it.

_I don't wanna break you, Cas. I love you._

Castiel shivered. He dropped his hands to his sides and grabbed two fistfuls of blankets. The skin of his stomach raised in goosebumps. He could feel the light spattering of hair down his front stand on end. The room felt haunted; always too cold and with the sense of being watched.

He made sure to leave Dean's room well before 6am. Sam would be up and readying for his morning jog. He didn't want to have to explain to Sam why some nights he dreamt about the violence he had suffered at Dean's hands and so, crept into Dean's room and stared at the ceiling for hours. He wasn't sure what it was. Mourning, maybe? Closure?

In the morning he dressed with his back to the mirror on the wall and carried the broom and dustpan back to the kitchen.

Sam wasn't back from his jog yet. It gave Castiel the time to steady himself and focus on more mundane human things, like making coffee.

He set the machine up and waited for the room to fill with the rich smell of coffee. He glanced up to see a note on the fridge. He squinted at it from across the room but couldn't read it. As an angel he could have read it from the other end of the bunker. As it was he moved closer.

It was a grocery list.

Thumps and bangs from the hall made him tense. He looked up and listened carefully. There were protections in place to keep demons out of the bunker but Dean knew them or had put them there. Sam had put more up since Dean had become a demon again but that was no guarantee despite what Sam said. Dean was smart. If he really wanted into the bunker Castiel was sure he'd find a way.

"Cas, you awake?" Sam called out.

Castiel relaxed. "No, I'm making coffee." He retorted.

Sam appeared in the doorway, laughing. "The most important food group."

Castiel's eyebrows puzzled together. They'd had this conversation before. "I still don't understand why food is divided into a pyramid. The human diet has varied wildly throughout history and continues to be varied to this day. A spoked wheel would be a more appropriate analogy."

Sam shrugged. "It's only a guideline." He glanced over at the coffee machine. "Make enough for me?"

"Of course." Castiel said.

He looked back to the grocery list. He read through the items. They would likely have to go into town today and resupply. He frowned at the list. The grocery store wasn't far. He had been there multiple times with Sam. He knew the way and he knew the store.

Castiel plucked the list from under the magnet. He held it up. "I'll do this today. You've been busy with researching those disappearances in Montana."

Sam stared at him in open-mouth surprise. He made a series of awkward noises then snapped his mouth shut. His face softened. "You sure?"

"I can do this." Castiel said. He folded the list and put it in his pocket. "It's only grocery shopping."

"Yeah." Sam agreed hesitantly. "...just...remember you can change your mind. You don't have to go alone."

"I know." Castiel said. He sat down at the table, waiting for the coffee to finish. He could grocery shop alone. He had been on his own for millennia before coming to the bunker. And it was only Lebanon. Population two hundred and eighteen. Besides, if it was possible for Dean to get into the bunker then he was no safer inside than he was out. There was no point in secluding himself in the bunker.

Sam bustled around the kitchen then sat down across from him and coughed. "...I'm pretty sure he's in Oregon right now."

Castiel's chest tightened. He knew what Sam meant, _he's nowhere near here,_ but they still rarely talked about Dean. He breathed out long and slow. He nodded. "That's..."

Sam nodded back.

The tension dissolved when the coffee machine started to hiss. Castiel pushed away from the table and went about the rest of his morning routine.

The bunker's kitchen was familiar now. He opened drawers and cupboards without thinking about it. It left his mind free to think of other things; his reflection in the toaster where there was now a pink scar travelling up from his lip, the way his side still ached when he moved just so, how he didn't have a favourite worn in shirt because all his clothes were only a few weeks old.

How maybe the past weeks of safety were an illusion. Maybe Dean _could_ get into the bunker and he was only biding his time.

A tremble went through Castiel. He grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter.    

"Cas?" Sam asked, worried. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Castiel said. His heart started thumping in his chest. He jumped when the toast popped out of the toaster. His heart fluttered erratically with fear. He took in one sharp breath after the other. He couldn't seem to catch his breath.

"Cas." Sam said gently. He came up beside Castiel. His eyes were sad and soft as they looked him over. "You can change your mind. If you don't think you can go out on your own yet I can come with you."

" _I can go on my own!"_ Castiel snapped. His heart beat faster. His chest tightened. It felt like something was wrapping around him, constricting his breathing. "I can't rely on—" He frowned down at his chest. He heaved in a breath as pain stabbed through him.

The room seemed to spin. His heart kept pounding in his chest. He couldn't breathe. He gasped. Fear began seeping into him. Was he having a heart attack? His vessel had been old enough to be at risk for heart attacks when he had first taken it. Was it finally giving out?

His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath but it only made the pain worse. He was having a heart attack. He was sure of it. And there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn't an angel anymore. He couldn't will his heart to repair itself. His time as a human was going to be cut short because of a faulty muscle. He felt himself start to shake. He was going to find out very soon what Dean's plans were for him in Hell.

In the back of Castiel's mind he could already hear himself whimpering and begging. He could hear Dean laugh cruelly and feel the angry twist of fingers inside him. He could feel the soft press of lips against his ear and a whispered heartfelt, _I love you,_ from a demon that couldn't love as it shoved Dean's cock into him until he was bloody.

Castiel jolted when two hands came up to settle around his arms. He shoved at the hands trapping him and stumbled backwards a step. His eyes focused in front of him. He realized he was staring at Sam through wide panicked eyes.

"Cas, hey, just take deep breaths." Sam said calmly. He reached out slowly and rested his hand on Castiel's elbow without taking hold. He started lowering himself down to the floor, eyes pleading with Castiel to do the same.

Castiel felt his knees bend. He sank down beside Sam until they were both sitting on the kitchen floor.

"Deep breaths." Sam took a deep breath of his own. "Like that. Deep breaths, Cas."

Castiel nodded. He gasped in a short breath and let it out with a shudder. Sam kept talking to him in that calm voice, telling him to take deep breaths. Castiel kept nodding but he was sure it wouldn't work. It didn't work. He couldn't do what Sam was asking him to do. It was so simple and he couldn't do it. He couldn't keep his feet out of a devil's trap, how could he possibly do this? He was worse than useless. His very presence actively made matters worse. Even right now, in the false safety of the bunker, something terrible was probably about to happen to them because of him.

Dean would get in. Castiel wheezed in terror. Dean would kill Sam and then keep him trapped in the bunker to use as he'd like until he got bored of him.

Sam started counting the time between breaths, telling Castiel when to breathe and exhale.

Castiel took in one shaky breath after another to the beat of Sam's count.

He wasn't sure how long it went on but he slowly became aware that he was sitting on the cold cement floor of the bunker and his ass had fallen asleep. The scent of cooling coffee filled his nose. He looked up to find Sam watching him carefully.

"How're you feeling?" Sam asked gently.

Castiel took in an experimental breath and let it out slowly. It didn't feel like he was choking and there was no pain in his chest. "I think I'm alright." He pressed his palm against his chest. His heart kept a steady pace. He looked back to Sam. "Did I just have a heart attack?"

Sam's face dropped into a sorrowful look of concern. "I don't think so, Cas." He gave Castiel a small sad empathetic smile. "I'm pretty sure it was a panic attack. So we don't have to go to the hospital unless you want to."

Castiel shook his head. He'd yet to have a good experience with hospitals and his last visit had made him understand why so many humans disliked them.

If he were an angel he'd never need to go to one.

"Okay." Sam said. "You want to go back to your room and lay down for a bit?"

Castiel nodded and mumbled out a quiet _yes._ Sam helped him up and kept him steady as they walked down the hall together.

He hated the way he was still shaking. When he was an angel his failures tore at him and drove him to penance. Now that he was human they kept him awake at night and gasping for breath in the kitchen. How was he supposed to right his failures if his body betrayed him? He frowned at the floor. Sam and Dean never crumbled in moments like that. They kept fighting. _He_ sat on the floor and forgot how to breathe and made matters worse by giving into his fears. He made for a pathetic human.

Sam made a soft concerned noise. "Cas?"

"Hmmm?" Castiel kept his eyes on the hall in front of him, trying to avoid his own shame.

"What happened in the kitchen, that kind of thing is normal." Sam said gently. "Lots of people start having panic attacks after being through what you went through." He gave Castiel's arm a reassuring squeeze. "It's normal. It doesn't make you weak."

Castiel turned and looked at Sam, surprised. Maybe it was normal for humans who didn't understand the supernatural but for hunters? Soldiers? Ex-angels? He shook his head. Maybe what Sam said was true but he had still been weak. He hadn't held out long enough. He had broken the devil's trap. He had let a dangerous demon get away because he had put himself first. He had been _selfish._ The worst form of weakness. _  
_

"Perhaps." Castiel sighed. "...but it's not normal for me. I might not be an angel anymore but I'm still a soldier. What I went through—" He shivered thinking about Dean. "I've been tortured before for far longer in ways that would kill a human in seconds. I've been... _accustomed_ to it for quite some time."

Sam frowned and looked at him as if he were missing some part of the conversation. "I didn't mean—" He stopped and studied Castiel's face. "...maybe because you're human now. Post-traumatic stress disorder is pretty common among _human_ soldiers."

Castiel let out a forlorn sigh. He knew Sam meant well. "...maybe."

They reached Castiel's room. Sam helped him into bed and told him they could do the grocery shopping together tomorrow. Castiel didn't bother to argue, Sam looked too worried, but tomorrow he'd insist on doing it on his own.

Tomorrow came and found him sitting in the bunker researching the disappearances in Montana while Sam did the grocery shopping alone because he was weak and couldn't manage doing grocery shopping in a town of two hundred and eighteen humans while Dean was four states away.

Two days later Sam sat down across from him in the library and slid a book over to him. Castiel leaned over the book and read the title, _Scars on the Inside._

"I know you don't like to talk about it." Sam said, concern and empathy were written across his face. "But I thought this might help." He tucked his hair behind his ear in a nervous gesture. "It's supposed to be good for veterans dealing with PTSD. Maybe you want to read it?"

Castiel brushed his thumb across the cover. "Thank you. But..." He frowned down at the book. What could there be in a book about human suffering that could apply to his experiences as an angel? Or even his experiences as an ex-angel? What did it know about demons? "I'm fine, Sam. The other day was... _an anomaly."_

"It wouldn't hurt to browse through it." Sam suggested. "It could help—"

Anger boiled up in his stomach; sudden and harsh. " _I'm fine, Sam!"_ Castiel hissed.

He shoved the book back across the table to Sam and went back to his research. There were people in Montana that _weren't_ fine, people that needed to be saved. He didn't have time to read a book to indulge his self-pity.

Sam sighed. He picked up the book and put it on the shelf behind him. "It's there if you change your mind."

Castiel pressed his lips into a thin line and bent further over the printed out newspaper article he was reading.

Four days later Castiel found himself trapped in the laundry room completely debilitated by fear. It was stupid and horrible and human. There had been no reason for it. At least in the kitchen he could see he had done it to himself. He had planned on going out alone and then let his mind drift to the last time he had been out alone. This time he had been calmly folding laundry until his fingers started to tremble and dread had crept into his chest and consumed him. He had been sure that any moment Dean would come to drag him out of the laundry room and rape him in front of Sam.

Castiel slipped into the library that night and found the book Sam had bought tucked away on a lower shelf.

He crept through the dark hallways and checked to make sure Sam was asleep before he continued to Dean's room. He breathed deep before opening the door to Dean's room. He turned on the light. He closed the door and, just as he always did, he carefully surveyed the room. Nothing had changed, of course.

He sat down on Dean's bed and opened the book.

It took him the better part of two weeks to get through it. He was surprised to find that it helped— _to a degree._ Some of his experiences were so vastly inhuman that no human literature would ever come close to touching upon it but it did help him recognize his own behaviour.

The behaviour he read most carefully about was anger. Irritability was a common symptom of PTSD and it was common for sufferers to be harsh with the people around them. He knew he did that to Sam occasionally; be angry with him without reason. He did his best to manage it. It wasn't Sam's fault.

Nearly a month after his first attempt to leave the bunker on his own he walked into the kitchen and took the grocery list off the fridge. He made sure Sam was busy in the library and didn't see him leave. He knew if Sam told him he didn't have to go alone that he'd take Sam up on his offer.

He also knew that Sam was wrong. He _did_ have to go alone. One day he'd have to leave the bunker alone whether he was human or angel. What if he waited until it was an emergency and found that he couldn't do it without succumbing to another panic attack? He could waste time and put lives in danger. He _had_ to go out alone if only to prove that he could do it so that when the time came and he truly had no choice he'd know that he could.

He spent fifteen minutes sitting in Sam's car shaking before he turned it on and drove out of the bunker on his own.

He drove into town without incident and parked the car in front of the only grocery store in Lebanon. He sat in the car and stared out the window. Dean was in Nevada; a gas station had been robbed and he had been caught on camera. Dean wasn't in Lebanon. Dean wasn't even in Kansas. There was no one inside the grocery store except humans procuring food.

Before he could overthink the action he opened the car door and got out. He could do this. He could go into the grocery store alone and buy groceries like all the other humans. He could be human if he needed to be.

He could drive to a grocery store on his own, he could get out of the car alone, and he could walk inside the grocery store alone because that's what humans did.

He could be human if he had to be.

He nearly ran back to the car when he fumbled a bag of frozen peas and let them drop to the floor. He almost abandoned his half full cart in the middle of the store when a woman bumped into him. He had a brief moment of terror when he realized that while Dean wasn't in Kansas that didn't preclude other demons or angels that had a vendetta against him— _or vampires._

His body was strumming with fear and agitation by the time he handed the cashier one of Sam's credit cards. She ran the card, smiled at him, and talked about the weather. Castiel had to shove his hands into his pockets to stop himself from trying to check if she was a demon.

He took the credit card back and gathered up his grocery bags. He kept his mind focused on the bunker. He was only ten minutes from returning to the safety of the bunker, even if that safety was tenuous at best. Nothing was going to happen in ten minutes. He'd put the bags into the car and drive back to the bunker and everything would be fine.

To his surprise that was exactly what happened. He put the bags into the car. He turned the car on and drove back to the bunker. Nothing happened. He had gone out on his own, bought groceries on his own, and came back on his own. There had been no demons, no monsters, not even a particularly rude human. He went out alone and he came back alone and he was fine.

A smile ticked up at the corner of his lips while he parked Sam's car in the garage bay.

He carried the groceries to the kitchen alone, he put them away alone, and then went to his room to put away his shoes and jacket. He felt lighter. It felt easier to breathe, as if some invisible snake coiled tight around his chest had sloughed off. He could go out on his own. He wasn't reduced to being dependent on the kindness of others. He could take care of himself.

He could be human.

Time wore on as it had a tendency to do. With only a few minor setbacks Castiel had done the grocery shopping by himself each time for the last few weeks. Only once had he phoned Sam, nearly frozen in panic, and asked him to pick him up. Sam had insisted that it was completely normal to have bad days. Castiel was sure it was anything but normal but he had learned that arguing rarely did much to convince Sam otherwise so he'd nod and let it go.

Instead he focused his arguments on other areas of interest. Namely, hunts. He knew it was dangerous to hunt alone and Sam had been doing it ever since Dean had been lost to the mark of Cain. What if something happened to Sam because he wasn't there? He'd never forgive himself.

Neither would Dean.

He put a simple hunt together; a ghost that would soon turn violent but wasn't currently outright malevolent. He wasn't delusional. He knew he wasn't ready for something more strenuous. He still had the occasional panic attack. He couldn't put Sam at risk on a more dangerous hunt just so he could try to prove to himself that he was capable. He wasn't going to be _selfish._

He laid out his research on the table in front of Sam and carefully explained the details. Castiel finished his short presentation. He breathed deep to calm himself, expecting fear that wasn't there. "I want to do this."

Sam didn't look surprised. He only nodded. "When do you want to leave?"

Castiel stared, at a loss as to what to say. He had spent the better part of a week preparing arguments for why Sam should let him come with him. He hadn't expected Sam to simply agree.

"Uh...tomorrow?" Castiel tried.

"Okay." Sam said. He motioned for the folder Castiel had put together. Castiel passed it over. Sam flipped through it. He frowned at an article and didn't look up as he spoke. "Are you sure? You don't have to come."

"I'm sure." Castiel said as firmly as he could. He griped his knees to stop his hands from shaking. It wasn't going to be like a hunt with Dean. He wouldn't have to worry that his hunting partner would turn on him. "I want to do this."

Castiel was sure he wanted to do it right up until Sam parked the car in front of a motel the next night. He hadn't thought this would be the problem. He was sure it would be the hunt. He was sure it would be going somewhere dangerous with someone and having to rely on that other person for his safety.

He hadn't thought a _building_ would strike fear into his heart and freeze him in place. It wasn't as if Dean could do anything to him in this motel room. Dean was several states away in California. Sam had triple checked before they had left. There was not a single reason to be afraid of this motel.

When Sam realized he hadn't gotten out of the car he came back. Sam slipped into the driver's seat and closed the door. He didn't say anything at first, instead taking quick glances at Castiel.

Castiel clenched his hands into fists. He couldn't meet Sam's eyes. How did he explain that a nameless motel room made fear creep into his chest while a hunt seemed reasonable? It was ridiculous and illogical but he couldn't make himself get out of the car and go inside. It was pathetic. Sam and Dean had been attacked _and died_ in countless motel rooms and that never stopped them from frequenting them.

Sam finally cleared his throat. "Sorry. I tried to pick one that looked different." He made a pained noise beside Castiel. "You didn't say anything so I thought..." He clenched his jaw. He rubbed at his eyes. "...I've been sleeping in the car on hunts."

Castiel blinked in surprise. He turned and looked at Sam. There was a nervous sweat on Sam's forehead and his face looked pale. Castiel's eyes widened. He hadn't thought this might be unnerving for Sam too.

"We could do that." Castiel said. The tension melted out of Sam. Castiel could feel his own go with it.

Sam nodded. He started the car up and pulled out of the motel parking lot. Sam drove until he found what he deemed a suitable place for the night. He parked the car and turned it off.

Sam tapped the steering wheel twice and turned to look at Castiel. "You want the back?"

" _No!"_ Castiel found himself yelping. He shivered. The phantom press of fingers and lips came back. He could feel black eyes staring down at him. He shook his head. "No. If you don't mind, I'd prefer to sleep in the front."

Sam's face contorted with concern. He nodded; a sad look to his eyes. "Sure, Cas. I don't mind."

Sam had blankets in the trunk and their bags doubled as pillows. They each made their bed for the night and lay down. The front seat was more than a little uncomfortable but Castiel knew he wouldn't have been able to sleep in a motel that night.

It had been silent for some time ‒ Castiel had assumed Sam had fallen asleep ‒ when Sam cleared his throat.

"I thought you were dead." Sam whispered. His voice was hoarse and pained. "When I walked in there, I thought he had killed you and that—" Sam cut himself off and fell silent.

Castiel heard him shift in the backseat. He waited for more but nothing came. Castiel stared at the roof of the car. Had he really looked that bad? He knew he had looked battered and bruised, enough so to draw stares in a hospital, but was it really enough to haunt Sam too? Sam had been through so much. How could seeing something second hand affect him?

He stared at the roof of the car trying to understand until his eyes burned. Between each rush of blood in his ears from his thumping heart he could hear quiet shaky breaths from the backseat. Neither of them said more.

He wasn't quite sure how he had fallen asleep that night but he was grateful to wake up the next morning and get out of the car to stretch.

One of the back doors opened. He looked over his shoulder to find Sam unfolding from the backseat looking equally stiff.

"I've got to get one of those pop-up trailers." Sam said. He rolled his shoulders. They crunched and popped. "I'm getting too old for this."

Castiel stretched his arm out with a crack. "You think _you're_ too old? I watched the formation of Everest."

Sam laughed. "Well, not _that_ old."

They worked the kinks out of their joints before pulling out the research Castiel had put together. There were two graveyards that seemed likely locations for where the bones of the ghost were buried. It was simply a matter of confirming the ghost's suspected identity and then tracking down the grave.

By four that afternoon Sam had talked to enough witnesses and police to confirm that it was Stacey Moncrieff. Castiel took out Sam's laptop and looked up where the man was buried then it was simply a matter of waiting for night to fall.

They filled the time by stopping to eat dinner. Castiel was half way through something called a _House Surprise Sandwich_ when Sam started frowning at his plate.

"What's wrong?" Castiel asked. He put the sandwich down. "Do you think we missed something?"

Sam shook his head. "No...I was just thinking." His eyes flicked up to Castiel. "Do you...do you have nightmares like that every night?"

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed. He rarely had nightmares these days and he hadn't thought he'd had one last night. "I didn't—" He licked his lips nervously. "I mean, no. Or I don't remember. If I do have them."

Did he have nightmares every night unbeknownst to himself? He set his hands by his side and clenched his fingers into his jeans to stop them from shaking. Did he spend his nights thinking about being stuck inside a devil's trap with a demon? Or what would happen to his soul if he died while he was human? Was that why he woke up some days feeling anxious? Was that why he had panic attacks some days for seemingly no reason? One hand drifted up to his stomach to ghost across the scars there. Did he dream about Dean?

"You know you can talk to me if you want to, right?" Sam said quietly.

Castiel yanked his hand away from his stomach and dug his fingers harder into his leg, trying to steady himself. He could feel his heart starting to beat faster. If he died right now his soul would belong to a demon. He'd wake up in Hell with familiar black eyes smiling down at him. The nightmare would start again.

"Or not." Sam quickly offered. "You don't have to. I just thought, it's been a while and maybe you'd want to talk." Sam looked down at his plate. He stole a glance at Castiel from the corner of his eye. "...if you don't want to talk I've got another book at home that you might want to read."

Castiel's chest heaved. He forced himself to breathe out slowly. "Like the other book?"

"Yeah." Sam said, guilt in his voice. "Like that book but different. Just...maybe give it a try."

"Different?" Castiel asked. He breathed deep and held it before letting it out in one long sigh. His heart slowed and stopped pounding. He _wasn't_ going to die in the diner. He was overreacting.

"It covers...some different stuff from the other book." Sam said. He didn't explain further. He did his best to keep the guilty expression from his face but his frowning did little to stop it.

The nervous guilt on Sam's face made Castiel tense. He looked down at his half eaten sandwich and felt sick. He pushed his plate aside and drank the rest of his water. Maybe he wasn't going to die in the diner but his soul still belonged to a demon.

It wasn't long after that, that Sam paid the bill and declared that it was time to go. Neither of them could finish eating.

They found Stacey Moncrieff's grave and dug up his bones— remains really. There was far more flesh than what Castiel was expecting for a body that had been buried for close to a year. Sam had laughed and told him that happened sometimes if the conditions were just right. Castiel had taken a moment to settle his stomach while Sam set the remains on fire. The smell of burning rotting corpse made Castiel's stomach twist. It was so very human a response.

There was a silent agreement to drive back to the bunker that night. Neither of them wanted to spend a night in the car covered in grave dirt and smelling like rotting corpse. It was a long drive but between the two of them it wouldn't be terrible.

When they switched off driving a second time Castiel cleared his throat as he settled into the driver's seat. "Sam?"

"Hmm?" Sam was busy bunching up his jacket into a makeshift pillow.

"What do you know about demon deals?" Castiel asked. If he was going to be human he'd need to break the deal with Dean.

Sam froze then cleared his throat. He slowly unwound himself. He sat up straight. "A lot. When Dean—" He grimaced. "When he sold his soul I found everything I could and..." He shifted uncomfortably. He cast a nervous glance at Castiel. "...I've been reading more since you told me what happened. I wasn't sure if you'd want to try to break the deal...or try to re-grace?"

Castiel doubted he'd find his grace any time soon and his deal with Dean was more immediately dangerous. He was doing human things. He could die a human death. If he was going to be human it made more sense to try and get possession of his soul back.

If he was going to be human he'd need his soul.

"Let's try to break the deal." Castiel said. He'd need his soul if he was going to be human.

But he wasn't _going to be human._ He _was_ human. Castiel clenched his fingers around the steering wheel as the realization sunk in. He was human.

"Okay." Sam said. He turned and punched at his jacket until it was a more satisfying shape. He slouched back down into the corner. "Cas?"

"Yeah?"

"We'll figure this out."

Castiel didn't know how they'd figure it out but then he hadn't known how they would stop the apocalypse either. If they could stop the apocalypse they could find a way to break his deal with Dean and remove the mark of Cain.

He stopped for gas and coffee in the early morning.

The cashier sighed, highly unimpressed, as Castiel counted out small change. The credit card Sam normally used for gas had been declined last week along with three others. Sam had destroyed all the credit cards out of precaution and given Castiel a lesson in how not to be arrested for credit card fraud.

A stack of twenties dropped down onto the counter from above Castiel's shoulder. The cashier looked up surprised.

"Keep the change."

Castiel froze.

The cashier looked between the money on the counter and the screen of the cash register. The cashier frowned. "What pump are you at?"

"No pump. Just figure this is gonna be messy."

Castiel's heart hammered in his chest. He darted to his left and sprinted for the door.

Dean slid in front of him, putting himself between Castiel and the door. He grinned. "Hey, Cas."

Castiel backed up. He kept his eyes on Dean. He knew there had to be a back entrance to the gas station. He had worked in a Gas n' Sip. Every Gas n' Sip had a back entrance. He could get out through the back entrance and circle back around to the car. He could get away.

"You did good on the ghost hunt." Dean said. He stalked towards Castiel. He put his hands up as if he were trying to calm a startled animal. "Why don't we hop into my car and go celebrate with a drink?"

Castiel trembled. How did Dean know about the ghost hunt? He was supposed to be in California. How long had Dean been watching them? He took another step backwards and bumped into a rack of chips. He jumped away, startled.

"Hey, you okay?" The cashier asked.

"He's fine." Dean said, not taking his eyes from Castiel. "Aren't you?"

Castiel felt his way around the rack of chips. He kept silent. He didn't think he would have been able to talk even if he wanted to.

"Okay look, I get paid minimum wage. That's not enough to deal with this crap." The cashier said. "If you're going to rough each other up do it outside."

"Hear that, Cas? The wage gap ain't gettin' any better." Dean said. He slowly made his way around the rack of chips and followed Castiel down the aisle. "Let's just talk this over like adults."

Castiel caught sight of the _employees only_ sign out of the corner of his eye. He took a quick breath and darted to his right. Dean caught the back of his jacket and yanked. Castiel stumbled. Dean stuck his foot between Castiel's legs. Castiel tripped and hit the floor. His chin bounced off the cold tile with a click.

The pain immobilized him. His head swam in and out of a grey fog. As soon as his thoughts pulled back together Castiel jerked his arms under himself and pushed up. Dean shoved him back down to the floor and planted a knee in his back.

"Okay." Dean said gently. "I thought we might have some disagreements at first but that's okay. This won't hurt. Just a prick then it's over."

"Whoa! Hey! I'm calling the cops!" The cashier shouted.

Castiel flinched as something stung the side of his neck. Terror shot through him. _Vampires!_

" _Come_ ** _on_** _."_ Dean complained to the cashier. "That's two hundred bucks to do it the easy way." Dean sighed. "This didn't have to happen." Dean leaned down and pressed a kiss behind Castiel's ear. "Just stay there. You'll hurt yourself if you start running around."

Dean's knee was suddenly gone from Castiel's back. Castiel heard the sound of a gun being cocked. He rolled over. The world seemed to shift sideways. The only stable point was Dean and he was stalking towards the cashier, gun raised.

Castiel got his feet under him and launched himself forward. He collided with Dean's legs, sending them both to the floor.

" _Run!"_ Castiel shouted.

He didn't know if the cashier took his advice. His vision was doing strange things. He couldn't keep his head up. He felt his body relaxing and going limp. His heart was slowing in his chest. The world was fading from his senses.

"What'd I say?" Dean pushed Castiel off his legs. "Stubborn bastard." Dean muttered. He slid one arm behind Castiel's knees and the other below his arms. He lifted him up, ignoring the weak struggle Castiel put up.

Castiel pushed against Dean's chest. He could barely feel his fingers. He tried to twist out of Dean's arms but he was sure he didn't do more than tense his shoulders. His eyes sunk close. He couldn't find the will to open them again.

"Hey, it's okay. I got you."

Castiel woke in stages. His sense of smell came first mixing with taste, his nose telling him a story about leather and oil so thick he could taste it. His hearing came next, filling his head with a low rumble and static muffled music. Touch was soon after, metal pulling at the skin around his wrists and leather biting at his cheeks. Sight was the last but Castiel didn't need it at that point. He had put the story together without seeing it.

He sat up in the back of Dean's car, his head pounding and his wrists handcuffed in front of him. There was a belt cinched around his head as a gag. Castiel thought the belt was probably his own. He looked out the window. It was night. He didn't recognize anything as the dark shape of trees and fields zipped by.

"You're up." Dean said without turning around. "Good." He turned the radio off. "I'm gonna drive for a few more hours. You hungry?"

Castiel glared at the rear view mirror. Dean smiled at him. Castiel kept his eyes focused on Dean while he slowly shifted from side to side, trying to judge if Dean had taken his new cell phone.

"Gotta take a piss?" Dean asked.

Castiel clenched his jaw. His teeth dug into the leather of his belt. He couldn't feel his phone in either pocket.

"Alright. You just shout if you need anything." Dean said. He turned the radio back on.

Castiel huffed. He twisted in the seat, highly aware that Dean was watching him. He pulled at the handcuffs, trying to slip them off. He glanced up at the mirror. Dean shrugged at him but didn't warn him to stop. Castiel looked away and pulled harder at the handcuffs. It was no use. He started feeling along the belt around his head. He grumbled into the gag when he discovered that Dean hadn't buckled it but rather tied it. He bent his arms around, this way and that, before reaching over his head and pulling at the knot. Dean didn't tell him to stop that either.

His fingers ached by the time he had worked the knot loose enough to spit the belt out of his mouth. He wiped the spit from his chin and rubbed at the corners of his lips. He had the gag off. Now what? What good had that done him? He was still handcuffed in the backseat of Dean's car hurtling down a nameless highway. He couldn't jump out and he couldn't do anything to attack Dean. It would only likely end in his own death in a car accident while Dean would be fine.

"You really did do a good job on that ghost hunt." Dean said over the radio. "You put it together? Or Sam?"

Castiel's chest tightened. How had Dean known where he was? Dean was supposed to be in California. Had Dean been watching him this whole time? Castiel shoved down a bubble of fear that rose up from his gut. He didn't have the luxury of being afraid right now. He had to think. He couldn't crumble to the ground like he had in the bunker.

"Nah, you did." Dean answered himself. "You got good at putting hunts together." He laughed fondly. He turned the radio down. He craned his head over his shoulder to smile at Castiel. "Always gotta help people."

Castiel shrunk back. His body tensed until Dean turned away. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

"Alright." Dean said as if Castiel had told him something. "We'll find someplace to bunk down for the night." His eyes flicked up to the rear view mirror. "Motel or a squat?"

The fear Castiel had pushed down erupted anew. It coiled around him and squeezed his heart. A motel. With Dean. He slammed his eyes shut and breathed like Sam had taught him to. He couldn't do this here. He couldn't fall apart with a demon in the car. He couldn't fall apart in front of _Dean._ It would make an already dangerous situation worse.

"Yeah, okay. I'll find a squat." Dean said. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music. It was unnervingly close to rhythm of Castiel's breathing.

Castiel forced himself to calm down. He was a soldier. He'd been captured. He needed to assess the situation. "What did you do to Sam?"

Dean shrugged. "Nothing." He rolled his head to the side. "Well, ya know, nothing right now. I'm sure if you asked him that he'd have a list a mile long just for all the times I pranked him."

Castiel wasn't sure if he believed that but he didn't have a way to verify it at the moment. "Where are you taking me?"

"Gonna find a squat, remember?" Dean chuckled. He reached down and turned the radio up loud. "Man! I love this song!" He yelled over the music. He started singing along, effectively stopping Castiel from asking anymore questions.

Castiel sank back into the seat. He didn't know where he was or where Dean was taking him. All he had was Dean's word that Sam was fine. His assessment of the situation was useless. He didn't know anything.

Two hours later Dean turned off the highway onto an empty country road. He stopped the car in front of an abandoned farmhouse. Castiel contemplated running from the car the moment it stopped but it was dark and he was handcuffed and they were in the middle of nowhere. Where would he go? What did he plan to do after? Even if he did run Dean would surely catch up to him and be angry when he did. Castiel stayed where he was. Making Dean angry had never ended well.

Dean opened the back door and reached for him. Castiel scrambled away and kicked at Dean's hands. Running wasn't an option but he wouldn't go quietly to whatever end Dean had in mind.

"Cas, calm down." Dean said gently. He caught hold of Castiel's legs and pulled him across the seat. Castiel flipped over and desperately grabbed at what he could with the handcuffs on. He kicked and thrashed at Dean's grip. Dean dragged him out of the car with a growled, " _Calm down."_ He propped Castiel up against the car.

Castiel tried to squirm out of Dean's grasp. He kicked at Dean, finally landing a worthwhile blow to the side of Dean's knee with his steel-toed boot. 

Dean let out a cry of pain as his leg buckled. He grabbed Castiel's shoulder before he fell and made an angry noise. He hauled himself back upright and punched Castiel in the gut. Castiel doubled over wheezing.

Dean caught him and picked him up. "Not so hard, is it?" He carried Castiel inside the dark farmhouse, limping at first until his knee healed.

Castiel struggled but Dean's arms were like pythons, the more he struggled the tighter they wrapped around him. Dean put him down on the floor in a musty living room. He pinned Castiel to the spot with his own weight then grabbed Castiel's hands.

Castiel tried to roll out from under him as his heart thundered in his chest. It was too much like that motel room; Dean's weight spread over him, his hands bound, and no escape in sight. His breaths started coming in heaving gasps. It was just like that motel room. He was alone with Dean and Dean had all the control. Dean could do whatever he wanted. Castiel distantly felt his body starting to shake.

"Cas. Hey. Shhh." Dean's voice crooned softly. "Hey, calm down. It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm sorry about outside. Hunter reaction." He pat Castiel's side. "I'm just making sure you don't hurt yourself."

Castiel shivered when he felt the metal around one wrist give away. Dean pat his cheek and kissed his forehead before his weight lifted off Castiel. Castiel squeezed his eyes shut. The kiss made his chest feel cold and slimy, like a worm had burrowed into his heart. He wanted to run and hide. He wanted to disappear into his room at the bunker and never come out again. Instead he trembled on the floor of a decaying farmhouse. It was pathetic. How could one kiss reduce him to this?

He wasn't aware that Dean had left until he came back with a lamp, blankets, and pillows. Castiel sat up, feeling oddly blank. It was like a wall between himself and all the thoughts racing through his head. He held his left hand up, surprised to see it free. He looked over at his right hand, tugging as he did, to see it handcuffed to an old solid sideboard.

He flinched when a blanket settled over him.

"I got some road food if you're hungry. Hope you like bison jerky." Dean said. He set a shiny red bag of jerky down beside Castiel. He held up a bottle of water. "And some water but I'm just gonna hold onto it for now. You tell me if you're thirsty."

Castiel stared up at Dean blankly. His thoughts were still scattering in every direction on the other side of that strange blankness. A trickle of feeling dug its way through. It was disgust. Disgust for how weak he felt in that moment ‒ numb, afraid, and pathetic ‒ all because Dean had kissed his forehead. He was a soldier. He had been an angel. He couldn't be weak in times like this. He held onto the thought. He was a soldier. He couldn't be weak.

"Okay." Dean said. He turned the lamp on and set it out of reach. He crouched down beside Castiel. He patted Castiel's knee. "You just make yourself comfy. I gotta do a couple of things."

Castiel watched Dean go. The living room was silent except for his shaky breaths.

He was alone.

He had to act. He was a soldier. He wasn't weak— at least he couldn't be right now. He could collapse and shake on the floor later. Not now.

His hands flew to his pockets checking for his phone or anything else that might be useful. His pockets were empty. Dean must have checked his pockets while he was unconscious.

He flipped over into a crouch and shoved his shoulder into the sideboard. It was heavier than it looked. He pushed harder. It tipped backwards into the wall. Castiel tugged at the handcuff. The angle wasn't enough to slide the handcuff underneath the leg. He shuffled back and pulled at the sideboard, dragging it away from the wall inch by inch. He put his shoulder to it again. It slid backwards on the floor. He shuffled back and dragged it away from the wall again. He could do this. He'd free himself and find something to draw a devil's trap with. He'd trap Dean and then find a phone. He'd phone Sam and tell him to come. They'd do the demon cure on Dean. He could do this. He just needed to get free first.

"Castiel."

He flung himself around.

"Enjoying your purchase?" Crowley asked. His eyes flicked over the handcuffs. He smirked. "Is he everything you hoped for?"

Castiel bared his teeth in a silent snarl. Crowley stepped closer. Castiel leaned back against the sideboard and shoved. Crowley laid a hand on top of it and slammed it back down before it could tip over.

"Don't run off just yet, love." Crowley snickered. He reached down and cupped Castiel's jaw. He tilted his head up. "We've got some business to attend to."

Before Castiel could yank his head away from Crowley's hand Dean appeared, snarling. Dean grabbed Crowley's wrist and twisted. Blood dripped from Crowley where Dean's fingers were buried.

"You ever touch him again and you'll be begging for me to cut that hand off." Dean growled. He threw Crowley's hand back at him.

Crowley put his hands up and took a step back. The blood had already disappeared. "Alright. Alright. Hands off your pet pigeon. I'll alert the presses."

"What do you want?" Dean snapped.

"Just thought I'd check in." Crowley said casually. A twisted little smile ghosted across his lips. "And wasn't I surprised to see that you've been reunited with the lover. I hope he's more sociable with you."

Dean eased his stance. He shifted closer to Castiel. "Not really."

Crowley took in a mocking shocked gasp. "Marital problems?"

Dean glowered at him.

"Oh, well. In that case. I should really be going. Let you two work it out." Crowley said, backing up from Dean.

Crowley's form started dissolving into red smoke. Dean shot forward and grabbed Crowley by the shirt before he could escape. He yanked him forward until they were inches apart. Castiel was sure that if Dean had an angel blade or the first blade Crowley would be a body on the floor.

"I didn't think we were that kind of friends." Crowley said slyly. His shape solidified. He reached up and stroked his hand along Dean's arm. "My safe word is Glenburgie."

Dean scowled at him. "I'm not done."

"Oh." Crowley said dryly. He spread his hands wide. "In that case, by all means, continue."

Dean shoved him backwards into the wall. He stalked up to him until his face was less than an inch from Crowley. Crowley grinned like he had Dean right where he wanted him. Dean jabbed a finger into Crowley's chest. Castiel heard a rib snap. Crowley only smiled wider.

"I want _you‒"_ Dean twisted his finger into Crowley's chest until blood started to dampen his shirt. "To put out the word that I'm taking a vacation." He nodded towards Castiel. "Me and Cas have got some problems to work out. I don't want any interruptions. That includes you."

Crowley reached up. He placed his fingers around Dean's wrist like he was holding a rose. He tugged back. Castiel watched in disbelief as Dean took his hand away. Crowley brushed himself off. The blood on his shirt stayed where it was this time.

"While I can appreciate a good lovers' spat." Crowley said. "I think putting the word out might have the opposite effect."

Dean smirked. He licked his lips. He took a step back, putting himself beside Castiel. He reached down and ran his fingers through Castiel's hair. Castiel scowled and ducked away. Dean didn't seem to care or notice. He kept his eyes on Crowley.

"Maybe." Dean said. The smirk hadn't left his lips. "But if anyone comes looking for us I'm going to hold _you_ responsible since you're responsible for this mess in the first place."

Castiel glanced up at Dean, guarded and curious. Did Dean blame Crowley for him leaving once he found out that the mark had him? Or did— He stamped down on the flicker of hope that Crowley had engineered their collective abuse at the hands of the mark of Cain, that _Crowley_ had tricked Dean from the beginning, that this was all _Crowley's_ fault. 

Crowley's usual mask of smug self-satisfaction dropped. His lips pulled back in a silent snarl. "If anything happens to me you'll never find the first blade."

Dean laughed. "You think I care?"

Crowley narrowed his eyes at Dean. The sly grin returned. He adjusted his jacket, fingers trailing down the buttons. He smoothed out his tie. "I think you care about a lot of things. Current demonic tendencies notwithstanding." He glanced down at Castiel and chortled.

" _Hey."_ Dean snapped his fingers at Crowley. He pointed to himself. "Eyes up here, buddy."

Crowley dragged his eyes from Castiel. He looked Dean up and down. He let out a quiet huff of a laugh then schooled his features into seriousness. "I'll put your vacation announcement in the weekly newsletter." He waved his fingers at them. "Have a drink on the beach for me, boys." 

Castiel watched as Crowley dissipated into red smoke, leaving out a broken window with a growl.

As soon as Crowley was gone Dean's hand clamped down on Castiel's shoulder. Castiel flailed back, heart beating wildly. All thoughts of being a soldier, of not being weak, dissolved into nothing. The handcuff jerked painfully at his wrist when he ran out of chain. Dean's hand stayed firm. Castiel grabbed at Dean's wrist, just as Crowley had done, and tried to push his hand off. Dean's hand didn't budge. Instead Dean crouched down in front of him and pulled him closer until Castiel could feel the angry heat pouring off Dean.

"What did Crowley want?" Dean growled. He squeezed Castiel's shoulder until Castiel hissed in pain. "He tell you something? Give you something?"

" _Dean."_ Castiel gave up all pretense of trying to gently remove Dean's hand as the pressure on his shoulder increased. It felt like Dean were trying to pop his shoulder out of place. He clawed at Dean's hand then shoved at his chest. Dean's eyes turned black. Castiel's heart felt like it was crawling up his throat. It was all going to happen again. "He didn't say anything! He didn't give me anything! Dean, please— You're hurting me! You said you wouldn't!"

Dean gave him a cold look but let go of his shoulder. He blinked. His eyes were green again.

Castiel choked back a whimper of pain as his shoulder throbbed. He knew this was just the beginning. Unless he trapped Dean or Sam saved him things would only escalate.

Dean's eyes swept over him, cold and calculating. He shoved Castiel down to the floor. Castiel yelped with fear. Dean's hands roved over his chest and sides. Castiel lashed out. In the back of his head he knew it would be better if he stayed calm, let Dean do what he was going to do either way, but his fear had hold of him. It couldn't be like last time. He couldn't let that happen again without fighting.

Dean growled at him to stop and batted his free hand away. Dean's hands slid under Castiel's shirt and dragged down his stomach, lingering over the scars there. His hands slid down further towards Castiel's cock. Castiel sucked in a terrified breath and froze. Dean's hands swept down his thighs. Castiel trembled. Dean worked his way down his legs and tugged his shoes off. Castiel let out a pathetic sob when Dean flipped him over onto his stomach.

Tears burned their way down his cheeks. All the fight had suddenly drained from him, replaced with crippling fear. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for Dean's rough hands to grab the waist of his pants and jerk them down.

A wrecked and broken noise whined out of his throat as Dean's hands came to his ass and kneaded. He curled his free arm around his head. How was he this pathetic? Captured by the same demon twice, letting it have its way with him without even fighting. He'd been a warrior of God. He'd been able to level cities. Now he was a whimpering mess that couldn't summon up the strength to escape a demon. Couldn't even stop himself from _crying._ How had he fooled himself into thinking he was still a soldier? That he wasn't just as weak now as he had been when he let Dean out of the devil's trap?

Dean's hands disappeared. Castiel stayed where he was, thoughts circling downward. What would Dean do to him this time? How much blood would there be? How many stitches would he need after? What would Sam think?

Dean brushed his fingers through Castiel's hair. "It's alright, Cas." Dean crooned. "Hey, it's alright."

It only made Castiel sob harder. It wasn't alright. A demon masquerading as Dean had him handcuffed to a piece of furniture in an abandoned farm house and he couldn't stop crying. He needed to fight but he couldn't do anything but cry.

Dean sighed. He slid his hands under Castiel and turned him over. He pushed and pulled at Castiel's body until he was sitting up against the sideboard. Dean's eyebrows furrowed at the sight of Castiel's tears. He reached out to wipe them away. Castiel flinched back. Dean gave him a sad look and rubbed the back of his neck as if it had all been an embarrassing misunderstanding.

"Sorry." Dean said. He reached into his jacket and took out the bottle of water. He unscrewed the lid and offered it to Castiel. "That smarmy bastard gets under my skin sometimes. Just had to make sure he hadn't planted something on you."

Castiel pushed the bottle of water away. He sobbed and wiped at his eyes.

Dean sighed. He sat down beside Castiel. He capped the bottle of water and set it aside out of Castiel's reach. He ran a hand through his hair. He shot an uncomfortable look at Castiel. He sighed again. "Look, I know I fucked up. I should have told you everything ages before Crowley ever showed up. But we can work this out. Every relationship has its hiccups. We'll get past it."

He reached up and took Castiel's face in his hands. He traced the scar on Castiel's lip with his thumb. He leaned in, holding Castiel still when he tried to flinch back, and pressed a soft kiss to Castiel's lips. He eased back and let go of Castiel. He ruffled Castiel's hair affectionately. "We'll work this out." He smiled. "Then go on that honeymoon and everything." He grabbed Castiel's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I love you, Cas."

Castiel stared at Dean, tears still trailing down his cheeks. He could feel the ghost of pressure from Dean's lips. A cold exhaustion seeped into his bones. His body felt numb. He wished he was in the bunker. He would crawl into his bed and not come out for two days. He felt his tears dry up, chilly and damp on his cheeks.

"Don't." Castiel whispered, his voice broken and rough. Hearing Dean say those words drove the pain in far deeper than any wounds Dean had inflicted on him. "Please."

Dean looked at him confused. "Don't what?"

"Don't lie to me like last time." Castiel begged as he trembled. He knew Dean would be mad but he couldn't hear those kinds of words coming from Dean again, not unless Dean was human. "I‒ I know what this is. You don't need—" Castiel's words caught in his throat. They felt like hot coals. He closed his eyes and swallowed the feeling down. "You don't have to pretend you're—" His voice cracked. "That you're in love with me. Please, just...just don't. Please, Dean. Not that. Anything but that. I- I won't fight. Just, please not that."

Dean's eyes went wide. He put a hand to his own cheek as if Castiel had slapped him.

A tremor shook through Castiel. He knew Dean was only trying to manipulate him but seeing that look of hurt on Dean's face still made him ache. He looked away and fought back the heaving sobs that wanted out of his chest.

" _Jesus Christ, Cas."_ Dean whispered.

Strong steady hands gently wrapped around Castiel's arms. Castiel breathed deep and let himself be turned. Dean's eyes glistened wet in the lamplight. Dean pulled him in closer. Castiel shoved his free arm out when he realized what Dean meant to do. Dean dragged him into the hug anyway.

Dean planted a hand on Castiel's back, pressing their chests together. His other hand slid up to cup the back of Castiel's head and ease it down to his shoulder. 

"I'm not pretending." Dean murmured against the side of Castiel's head. "I love you."

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and tensed up. Another sob cracked his throat. "You don't. You're just saying it because you know it hurts." He tried to shove away that warm feeling spreading in his chest as he breathed in Dean's scent. He snaked his arm between them and pushed at Dean's chest. Dean only held him tighter.

"I do. It's okay, Cas. I'm not lying. I'm not pretending." Dean nuzzled his head against Castiel's. "I love you."

" _No, you don't!"_ Castiel balled his hand up into a fist and drove it into Dean's side. Dean flinched but held him tighter. Castiel did it again and again but Dean didn't let him go. Dean held on and told him that he loved him.

Castiel's fist dropped. He curled his fingers into Dean's jacket, intent on trying to yank him away, but he couldn't find the strength to do more than hold on. He slumped against Dean.

Dean pressed them closer together. "There, ya go. Just relax." He turned his head and pressed a kiss to Castiel's temple. "I love you, Cas."

Castiel sucked in two panicked breaths then sobbed openly into Dean's shoulder. "You _can't._ You're a demon."  Castiel choked out. It only made him cry harder. Dean couldn't love him as a demon. It had always been a lie. He had known before. He had told himself that when he had trapped Dean in the devil's trap. But the revelation clawed at him anew and opened up his chest like he was being gutted. It had _always_ been a lie.

Dean's hand disappeared from his back. A moment later a blanket settled on top of them. Dean wrapped his arm back around Castiel as he sobbed. Dean kissed the top of Castiel's head. "It's okay. I love you. We'll get past this."

Another sharp sob wracked Castiel's chest. He wished he could believe it. He wished he could believe that this demon hadn't ruined any chance that Dean might ever love him. Dean would never be able to forgive himself for what he'd done as a demon. Dean probably wouldn't even be able to look at him once he was cured again. Dean would never love him because of what this demon had done to him— what Castiel had _let_ the demon do to him.

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean as much as he could with one hand cuffed to the sideboard. He snorted and cried into Dean's shoulder and let his tears collect on Dean's jacket. It wasn't just this demon's fault that everything had been ruined. He had let it happen. He had known Dean was a demon. He knew what demons were. He knew and he hadn't stopped it when he could. It was his fault too. He had thrown away any real chance at happiness with Dean because he had liked kissing a demon more than he had liked the truth.

Dean stroked his back and hummed. Castiel cried in his arms until exhaustion caught up with him.

Castiel woke alone the next morning; cold and stiff and empty. He curled into a ball and shivered. He wasn't sure how long he laid on the floor like that before he realized that the handcuff chaining him to the sideboard had been removed.

He sat up. He looked his hands over. The only evidence that the handcuffs had ever been there were light bruises around his wrists. He looked around the living room of the decaying farmhouse. There was an assortment of rotting furniture but the pillows, blankets, and lamp Dean had brought in last night were gone. All that was left was the bottle of water and the package of jerky arranged neatly beside his shoes and belt.

Castiel pushed up from the floor. He went to his shoes before he could think about it. He shoved his feet in and tied them up. He listened for signs of Dean and heard nothing. He grabbed his belt and slipped it on. He stopped and listened again. Still silent. He picked up the bottle of water and drank the entire thing. He hadn't realize how much his throat ached from crying until the water eased the pain. He grabbed the bag of jerky and forced himself to eat a piece. He took a moment to steel himself and listen for Dean. He still couldn't hear him.

He breathed deep and started forward. He kept his thoughts away from how weak and pathetic he'd been last night. That would only distract him. He needed to be a soldier. He needed to think about how he'd get away, about what he'd do next. He doubted he'd have the strength or fortitude to trap Dean again but he could find a phone and tell Sam where he was. If he couldn't do that he'd get as far from Dean as possible and then work out where he was and how to get back to the bunker.

He crept through the farmhouse, always expecting Dean to appear around every corner. It wasn't until he was outside that he found Dean, packing up the blankets and putting them in the trunk of the car.

Castiel backed up until he was hidden by the house. He should have known he wouldn't be able to simply walk down the road. He wondered if the oversight was a leftover effect of whatever Dean had drugged him with or if it was simply because he'd barely eaten in two days. His skin prickled with anxiety. He was already making mistakes. He couldn't afford to make mistakes with Dean.

"You draining the lizard or something?" Dean called out, chuckling. His head appeared around the corner of the house. His eyes raked up and down Castiel. He licked his lips and smiled. "Come on, there's a diner not too—"

Castiel spun on his heel and bolted. He didn't know where he was going. He locked his eyes on a distant tree on the other side of the field and ran towards it. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest and Dean's feet pounding behind him. His shoes and pants turned wet with early morning dew. Small thorny shrubs tore at his pant legs. He didn't glance behind himself. He knew what he would see. He kept his eyes on the tree. He'd get that far then pick another point and keep running. 

Dean caught him around the waist and dragged him to the ground. Castiel let out an animal yelp of pain as his knees hit the ground. Dean shoved him forward, flat on his stomach, and straddled his legs. Dean turned him over. Castiel turned with it and threw his weight behind the movement, trying to knock Dean off. Dean laughed and rolled with him until they were right back where they had started; Castiel pinned to the ground and Dean straddling his legs.

Castiel sucked in a breath and didn't let himself think. He punched Dean in the jaw, cutting up from underneath. Dean's head snapped back. Castiel drove the heel of his palm into Dean's chest. Dean grunted in pain. Castiel flipped over and squirmed out from under Dean. He got his feet under himself only to have Dean grab them and yank them out from under him. He hit the ground with a thud. He grabbed at the grass and dug his feet in as Dean dragged him backwards.

"Damn it, Cas!" Dean growled. "I'm not trying to hurt you!"

Dean's weight settled on the backs of Castiel's thighs. He caught Castiel's arms and pinned them to the ground at his sides. Castiel laid still, huffing in adrenalin fuelled fear. Castiel waited for the inevitable; for Dean to lean down and grind his hips against him. The moment he did Castiel would jerk his head backwards and hopefully break Dean's nose. Even a demon would find that painful.

Dean let go of his arms. Castiel stayed still. Dean leaned in close. Castiel could feel the heat of him across his back, his breath against his neck. He shivered then jerked his head back just like he'd planned. Dean caught his head in his hand and pushed it back down to the ground. 

"I'm not going to hurt you. Promise." Dean said in a calm and measured manner. He waited a moment then let go of Castiel's head. "I'm gonna let you up now, okay?"

Castiel nodded. He forced himself not to tense up. It would give him away. He breathed deep. The moment his arms were free and Dean's weight was off him he pushed himself up and tried to run again. 

Dean made an exasperated noise and hooked his hand under Castiel's belt before he could get away. He yanked Castiel backwards and caught him in his arms. Castiel shoved and kicked. Dean slowly sunk back to the ground, dragging Castiel with him. He shoved Castiel forward; back onto his stomach. Dean spread his weight across him. Castiel thrashed when he heard the sound of Dean undoing his belt.

" _Cas."_ Dean said sternly. He planted his hand into Castiel's upper back and pressed down. " _Chill out._ I'm not going to hurt you."

There was only a wounded whine in response. Castiel was surprised it had come from him. It was _his own throat_ that was emitting that terrible broken sound.

The pressure on Castiel's back disappeared. Dean grabbed Castiel's wrists. Castiel felt the brush of leather against his hands and realized what Dean was doing. He tried to yank his hands away before Dean could tie them up behind his back with the belt.

He might as well have tried to stop a speeding car with his own hands— _not long ago he could've done just that._

Dean cinched his belt tight around Castiel's wrists and tied a knot. He flipped Castiel over onto his stomach. He reached for Castiel's belt. Castiel planted his feet on the ground and tried to scramble away on his back. His hands scraped and scratched against the ground. He couldn't go through it again. He couldn't let Dean tie him up and— _hurt him._

"Don't. Please. Please don't." Castiel begged. He started shaking. He couldn't breathe. Dean reached for Castiel's belt again. Castiel craned his head back. If he didn't see it ‒ the thing perverting Dean ‒ it wouldn't be so bad. If he just didn't watch the way it smiled with Dean's lips or drank him in with Dean's eyes it wouldn't be so bad. Tears started leaking from his eyes once more, his chest heaved with silent sobs.

Dean slid Castiel's belt off. His hands never went to the zipper of Castiel's pants. Dean shimmied down Castiel's prone body. He slid Castiel's belt under his feet. Dean wrapped it around Castiel's ankles twice before tying a knot in the leather. Dean crawled back up and leaned over Castiel.

Dean's eyes flicked back and forth over Castiel's face. He frowned. He dropped his eyes down. "I'm sorry. I messed up. I should have told you."

Castiel angled his head away so he couldn't see Dean at all. If he just didn't see it, it wouldn't be so bad.

"Things wouldn't have gotten out of hand if I had just told you." Dean said. His hands slid under Castiel's back and legs. Castiel was suddenly lifted from the ground. Dean tucked him in close to his chest. "I'm gonna make you a promise, okay?"

Castiel kept his head turned away. He didn't want a demon's promises. The promise of a demon meant exactly nothing— _just like its love._

"I'm not going to lie to you anymore." Dean said. He adjusted his hands and tried to tilt Castiel's gaze towards himself. "It's lyin' that got us into this mess, so no more lies. From either of us. Alright?"

Castiel kept his gaze steadfastly turned away. Dean sighed and started walking back to the car. Dean didn't stop talking as he carried him back. Castiel tried to tune it out, tried not to look at him, tried to be somewhere else. Dean didn't seem to care. He just went on telling Castiel that he loved him, that he wouldn't lie to him again, that he was sorry things had gotten out of hand.

It didn't take long to reach the impala. Dean put Castiel into the backseat of the car ‒ ankles and wrists still bound ‒ then got into the front. He started the car up and asked Castiel how he felt about breakfast.

Castiel turned his head into the seat and tried to tell himself that Sam would find him soon.

Dean pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant close to noon.

"Bathroom break." Dean announced. He fiddled with something in the glove box before getting out of the car and coming around to the back. He opened the door and leaned in. "I'm gonna untie you. I'm not gonna hurt you."

Castiel watched him with cold eyes as Dean untied his hands and feet. Dean put his own belt back on and tossed Castiel's to the floor.

"You going to be okay?" Dean asked. He held out his hand, offering to help Castiel out of the car.

Castiel glared at him. He slid out of the car on his own. As soon as he was standing Dean grabbed his arm.

"You don't gotta be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you." Dean said gently. He closed the car door and started guiding Castiel towards the diner. "You want to stop for lunch too?"

Castiel stared ahead at the diner. A flicker of hope burst in his chest. Maybe Dean would let his guard down in the diner and he could get away.

"Yes." Castiel said stiffly.

He could see Dean smile out of the corner of his eye.

Dean led him into the diner. It was not lost at all on Castiel that Dean chose a seat that put Dean between Castiel and the front entrance and where Dean had a clear line of sight to the bathroom.

Dean let him go and motioned towards the bathroom. "I'll tell the waitress to start with coffee."

Castiel nodded. He walked towards the bathroom without a word. His eyes slid over the emergency fire exit as he passed it by. He walked into the bathroom. He counted to five then slipped back out and bolted out the fire exit. He stumbled into a back alley. He looked to his left. It was a dead end. He turned right and started running. The alley led back to the parking lot but he had no other choice. Hopefully Dean hadn't noticed him slip out.

The door into the alley didn't open behind him. Instead Dean stepped into view at the mouth of the alley. Castiel dodged past him and into the parking lot. He could lose Dean among the cars.

Dean chased him down and caught him; pinning him against a pick-up truck and clapping a wet rag over Castiel's mouth. 

"It's okay, Cas. Just breathe." Dean whispered into his ear. He shifted his hand until the rag covered Castiel's nose as well. "Just breathe, Cas."

Castiel worked his arms under himself and tried to push off the truck. He barely moved at all. He tried again. He couldn't feel his arms and his vision had turned grainy.

"That's it." Dean encouraged.

Castiel felt himself slide down the side of the truck. He knew his legs must have given out but he couldn't feel them at all. He was distantly aware of being lowered to the ground. Dean kept murmuring quiet encouragement to _just breathe._

—the first thing Castiel was aware of was that he wasn't in his own bed. The blankets had an odd chemical floral smell that he could nearly taste. He opened his eyes. It was dark but he could make out the shape of a bedside table. He couldn't be in the bunker. When the lights were off in the bunker it was pitch black.

Castiel reached out to a dark shape on the bedside table. He felt along it and found the switch. He turned the lamp on. He was in a motel room, that much was apparent, but it wasn't the usual kind of lodging that the Winchesters frequented. The room was maybe three times the size of any motel room he'd stayed in before. He started to crawl out of the bed. A chain rattled and clinked and tugged at his ankle. He flipped the blankets back. He was hit with a wave of nauseating déjà vu. There was a chain around his ankle that trailed off the bed.

His chest started heaving. He was chained to a bed. His breaths came faster.  _He was chained to a bed._

Castiel's eyes slammed shut. "One, two, three. In. One, two, three. Out." He breathed in and out. In his head the numbers were in Sam's voice. In his head he could hear Dean,  _you're in control here, Cas._

He counted off his breaths until they were steady and even and his heart had stopped pounding. He opened his eyes again. He breathed deep and swung his legs out of the bed. The thump of the chain hitting the floor made a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He forced himself to stand up. He followed the chain to its end.

He was, in fact, not chained to a bed but rather chained to a couch. It didn't make it any better.

He took the cushions off the couch and discovered that Dean had cut a hole through the fabric and fed the chain through. He couldn't get the chain off without either the key for the padlocks on the chain or taking the entire couch apart.

He put the cushions back and investigated the room. The chain didn't reach everywhere but after a few minutes of thought he realized he could simply push the couch closer to anywhere he wanted to go. Dean didn't care what he found in the room. He just didn't want him leaving it.

Castiel contemplated pushing the couch as close to the door as possible then going into the hall and calling for help. He discarded the idea for now. He didn't know where Dean was or what he would do if he came back to find Castiel recruiting the motel's other patrons to help him escape. Dean had tried to shoot the gas station attendant for interfering. He might try the same here.

He searched for the phone. Every motel room had a phone. He'd phone Sam and tell him where he was ‒ he'd found the motel's personalized phone book while searching ‒ and Sam would help him escape and trap Dean after.

Castiel found an empty phone jack and nothing else. Dean must have taken the phone with him.

He went back to the middle of the room and stared at the couch that anchored him to this place. He bent down, put his hands on the armrest, and started to push. He'd risk calling for help in the hallway. Surely it wouldn't take long for someone to find bolt cutters. He'd make up a story about the chains being consensual but that his partner had gotten called away and simply forgotten to leave the key. He'd be adamant that no one phone the police or loiter in the room. He'd get the chain off and tell everyone to leave. Dean would find an empty room and no one to blame.

He was climbing over the couch to get to the door when the door swung open. A furious look flashed across Dean's face before it was quickly replaced by something playful. Dean stepped into the room and closed the door. He set two full plastic bags onto the couch then started pushing the couch ‒ and Castiel ‒ back into the centre of the room. Castiel lost his balance as the couch moved; sprawling across it and landing on his face. He scrambled upright as soon as the couch stopped moving.

Dean sat down beside the plastic bags. Castiel bolted off the couch and backed up as far as the chain would let him. Dean unpacked takeout containers and spread them out on the coffee table.

"Check it out, Korean barbecue." Dean said. He waved a hand at the takeout containers then grabbed the second plastic bag and started taking out a stack of newspapers. "And I picked up every newspaper I saw. I think there's a ghoul or two in town."

Castiel watched as Dean started opening containers and eating while he flipped through the newspapers.

Dean went through three newspapers before he looked up. "You gonna eat?"

Castiel looked between Dean and the takeout containers. Was he going to eat? Dean had kidnapped him two days ago and now he wanted to know if he was going to eat?

"You okay?" Dean asked. His face was the picture of concern.

"No." Castiel said. He didn't think it mattered what he said. Dean hadn't cared last time.

Dean stood. Castiel jerked back, the chain stopped him short. Dean sucked in a wounded breath. He looked down. He spread his fingers and stared at his hands.

"I'm sorry." Dean mumbled. Pink started blossoming on his face. "I'm sorry, Cas. I really am." The embarrassed pink turned into an angry red. Dean's fingers curled into fists. He looked up at Castiel defiantly. "But you weren't _listening to me._ I told you I didn't want to be cured. That I can keep you and Sam safe if I'm like this because everyone is too afraid to fuck with me."

Dean stepped closer. Castiel edged sideways.

"And I beat the answer out of him." Dean said. "If I get cured your contract goes to Crowley. I can't let that happen."

"Then let me out of the deal." Castiel said.

Dean continued as if Castiel hadn't spoken, "And if you cure me I'll be too chickenshit to love you anymore." He laughed ruefully. He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Man, this no lying thing is hard." He muttered. He waved his hand dismissively. "Okay, I'd still love you but I'd probably be too damn scared to do anything about it." He shrugged. "Honestly? I think you'd probably have to put me on suicide watch if you cured me. I'd get too damned wrapped up in the things I did, instead of the things I could do."

Castiel's chest ached. The only part of what Dean had said that he could believe was what he already feared; that Dean would never forgive himself for what he had done as a demon, that curing Dean might kill him in every way that mattered.

Dean watched him for a few moments before going back to the coffee table and grabbing two newspapers and a takeout container of barbecued beef. He put them on the bed and backed away. He sat down on the couch. "There. You don't have to sit with me if you don't think you can yet."

Castiel looked between the bed and Dean. A tremor rippled through him. He strode forward, past the bed, and into the bathroom. It was the only place he could reach where he wouldn't have to look at Dean.

He pushed the bathroom door closed as much as he could with the chain in the way. He pulled down the thick white towels on the shelf beside the shower and wrapped himself up in one. He wasn't in control. He wasn't fine. It hadn't stopped. And he highly doubted it would be over any time soon. Even when it was finally over, everything would be in ruins.

Dean started humming in the other room. Castiel recognized it and nearly sobbed. It was the song Dean would hum when things had seemed perfect, when Castiel had felt warm and safe and loved. He had been such a fool to think he was any of those things. 

Castiel reached over and arranged the remaining towels into a mat in front of the door. He sat down, back against the door. He'd been such a pathetic fool and he was still acting like one. But he didn't know what else to do except sit on the bathroom floor and feel sorry for himself. He'd never be able to overpower Dean. He knew he couldn't out run him. He didn't want to put the rest of the motel patrons at risk by asking for help. Sam didn't know where he was. Curing Dean would probably kill him.

Castiel choked back a sob. He was alone. Helpless and human with a demon in the other room that kept telling him he loved him. He buried his head in his hands and cried. What else could anyone expect such a pathetic excuse for a human to do?

Castiel was sure he cried for the better part of an hour before he forced himself to stop. He sucked in a wavering breath and wiped at his eyes. Bitter shame lodged in his throat. He was still trapped. Crying about it hadn't done anything to help. He turned his head and listened for Dean. His chest tightened with grief. Dean was still softly humming the song that had meant safety and warmth. The humming turned into barely whispered singing. Castiel could only make out a handful words.

" _...cares that hang around me...a gambler's lucky streak."_ Dean sang softly. He paused. There was the ruffle of a newspaper being turned and folded. " _...out together dancing cheek to cheek."_

Castiel heaved a broken sigh and leaned his head against the door. He was still trapped and he wasting valuable time wallowing in self-pity over a song. He needed to form a plan.

A glint of something silver caught his eyes. He titled his head forward. His eyes focused in on a rusting safety pin laying hidden underneath the bathroom counter. Castiel reached out and picked it up. He'd seen Sam and Dean pick locks with pins and paperclips before. They had each explained the basics of it at one time or another. How hard could it be?

Castiel pulled his ankle into his lap and turned the chain around until the padlock was facing up. He popped the safety pin open and bent it like he'd seen Sam and Dean do before. He slid it into the lock and tried to recall everything he'd ever heard Sam and Dean say about picking a lock.

His fingers felt like they were bleeding when he finally felt something in the lock shift. With trembling hands he pulled at the top of the lock. It opened. He let out a surprised noise then immediately slapped his hand over his mouth. He stared at the door, terrified that Dean would come to see what he was suddenly so happy about. 

Dean didn't come in. The murmured singing continued, broken here and there by the shuffle of newspapers.

Castiel breathed in relief. He looked back to the open lock in his hand. He shrugged the towel from his shoulders and slid it under his foot. He folded the towel over his foot, covering the chain and lock. Hopefully it would muffle the noise of the lock sliding free and the chain falling from his foot.

He eased the lock out of the links and slid his foot out of the chain. The sound of the towel rustling and the muffled clink of chain sounded like thunder in his ears. He was sure Dean was going to come in any second now but Dean's soft singing didn't change.

Castiel stood up, careful of the chain. He carefully slid the chain and towels away from the door. He stood up and eased the door open without a sound. He leaned forward just enough to catch a glimpse of Dean still sitting on the couch. Dean's singing trailed off as he turned a page in the newspaper. Castiel glanced towards the door of the motel room. It was hidden by a short hallway. Castiel would only be visible from where Dean sat for a few short seconds. It would only take him three steps to sneak into the hallway and a few more before he reached the door and could run. Dean may be faster but if he had an adequate start maybe he could out run him.

It wasn't much of a plan but it was all he had.

Castiel stepped back from the bathroom door. He grabbed a small white hand towel from the floor, he'd wedge it into the door out of the room to stop it from clicking shut and giving him away. He'd need as much time as he could get to get away from Dean.

He went back to the bathroom door. He breathed slow and steeled himself. He reached forward and opened the door. He didn't let himself look at Dean. He slipped out of the bathroom, keeping his eyes on the hall. It would only take seconds. He'd be in the hall in seconds where Dean couldn't see him.

"If you leave I'll kill people."

Castiel froze at the mouth of the hall. He could see the door. He was so close to the door. It was only a few more steps away.

"I mean it, Cas. I'll lose it. I know it. I'm not gonna be able to handle you taking off again. It'll make me go all black-eyed; jam the fire doors closed on this level, kill everybody on this floor. I'm not lying, Cas. If you go I'm not gonna be able to stop myself."

Castiel took half a step forward and stopped. A sick feeling roiled in Castiel's stomach. Dean would do it. The demon sitting on the couch behind him wouldn't care at all about how many people he'd killed to prove a point. He knew without a doubt Dean would do it and he'd taken half a step forward anyway.

"Don't leave. Don't let me turn into that. Stay. Please. I'll take you out to this local Italian place. They make amazing chicken parmesan. We could see a movie after."

Castiel's eyes burned with tears. His hands clenched into fists. He took another step forward. His stomach felt like it would heave up any moment now. If he ran, if he went out that door in front of him, he'd been dooming everyone on this floor. And for what? The hope and chance that Dean wouldn't find him again before he could get back to the bunker? And what about Dean? When they cured him Dean would have to live with that. How could he make such a selfish choice knowing it would end in failure?

"Please, Cas. I don't want to be that."

Castiel started to shake. He sunk to the floor. He put his head in his hands and cried again. Why was his life full of choices that required him to sacrifice _everything_ for the good of others? Why did he keep doing it? No one ever sacrificed on his behalf. No one ever appreciated what he'd done for all of humanity.

"Thank you."

Castiel snorted and wiped his eyes. He stood up. He turned around. Dean was angling his face away as if trying to hide tears of his own. Castiel swallowed down a whimper. He went over to the table and grabbed a chair. He dragged it over to the coffee table and put it across from Dean. He sat down. Dean picked up the box of tissues on the table and offered them to Castiel. Castiel took them. He pulled one out and blew his nose.

"You wanna just stay in tonight?" Dean asked. He wiped at his eyes then nudged two containers of takeout towards Castiel. "That restaurant will still be there tomorrow when you're feeling better."

Castiel nodded. He put the box of tissues down beside him and picked up a takeout container. Dean passed him a fork. Castiel took that too.

"Anything I can do to make this better?" Dean asked. "I hate seeing you like this."

Castiel closed his eyes. He wanted to say _give me my soul back_ _and _let us cure you__ but he knew those were pointless requests.

"I want to talk to Sam." Castiel said. He wanted someone to know he was still alive. He wanted to know that someone was still looking for him. He wanted to pretend that someone would sacrifice for him for a change.

Dean watched him quietly for a long while before picking up one of the newspapers again. "Alright. I'll see about setting something up. Might be a while. He's smart at tracking."

Castiel made himself eat and drink. He sat and watched Dean look for evidence of a ghoul. At midnight he got up and went to the bed. Dean turned the lights off for him. Castiel trembled on the bed, sure Dean would slip in beside him any minute. He spent most of the night sure Dean was going to rape him.

The next morning he woke to find his old bag sitting on the end of the bed. The very bag Dean had stolen all those months ago. Dean had kept it the entire time.

Castiel put his head in his hands and counted off his breaths. Dean had always planned this. Dean had always planned to take him back. Why else would Dean keep his bag this whole time?

"Mornin', Cas." Dean said cheerfully. He waved at the newspapers he had spread out on the coffee table. "Think I got it figured out while you were sleeping."

Castiel looked up and stared at him. Dean had always planned to kidnap him. He should have known. He should have known this would happen. He should have known he wasn't safe. He should have taken more precautions.

"I got breakfast for you." Dean said. He pointed over at the table. "Didn't think you'd feel up to going out right away."

Castiel looked to his right. There was a paper bag spotted with grease on the table. His stomach lurched. A demon had brought him breakfast and that demon was Dean. He clenched his jaw and didn't shift his gaze towards the door. He could run. Dean hadn't put the chain back on him while he slept. He could throw the blankets off himself and run for the door.

He wished he was selfish enough to do it. He wished he could run and not feel the guilt that would come with knowing that whatever Dean did after was his fault.

Castiel pulled his old bag towards himself. He picked out clean clothes. He slid out of the bed and walked to the bathroom. The door out was so close. It would only take him seconds to dash down the short hall and run.

And seconds more for Dean to follow him out and barricade himself on the floor and kill everyone.

Castiel stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. Was he a coward for not running? Or was he one for wanting to run?

He ran the shower scalding hot. It didn't do anything to stop the cold feeling in his gut. He dressed in his old, but clean, clothes. Dean had done his laundry. Castiel shivered as he stared at himself in the mirror. Dean had kept his bag and cleaned his clothes. Dean had covered all the fine details of kidnapping him.

He went back out into the motel room. He sat down at the table and drew the paper bag to himself. He'd barely eaten in days. He may be kidnapped by a demon, that demon may be threatening violence on the people around him, but he was still human. He had to eat.

He wished he didn't have to eat.

He sat quietly on the bed for the rest of the day hoping Sam would find him. The two of them could overpower Dean or trick him some way. The people in the motel would be safe and they would take Dean to the bunker and cure him. Dean would never be able to love him after everything but no more innocent people would die.

Castiel was watching dust swirl in the light from the window when Dean stood up and told him that it was time for dinner. Castiel stood and joined him at the door wordlessly.

The chicken parmesan was as good as Dean said it was. The movie Dean took him to see had more violence than Castiel cared to watch. He spent the whole time twisted up in fear; looking at easy escapes and never going through with it. Not after Dean took his hand and pressed it to Dean's side. Castiel had felt the handle of a knife. Dean had leaned in, kissed Castiel's temple, and whispered, _There's a lot of people here, Cas. Don't let me do anything stupid. Don't let me turn all psycho killer. I know it'll happen if you're not here to stop me._

Castiel didn't do anything. He followed Dean from the car to each place and he followed him back. The threat of violence on innocents a more effective chain than steel and iron could ever be.

When they got back Castiel sat on the bed and bowed his head. He ran his hands through his hair. What was he doing? What was he going to do? He had to get away. He had to find a way to contact Sam. He had to save Dean and everyone else. He couldn't put the thoughts in order. They scattered and fell apart and sank into the exhaustion that was creeping into him from all sides.

"See, Cas?" Dean said earnestly. "We can get past all that." He sat down on the bed beside Castiel. He stroked his hand up and down Castiel's arm. "We'll work it out."

Castiel eased away from Dean's hand. His heart ached with pain. "If I had left you would have killed people." Castiel said bluntly.

"But you didn't." Dean said.

Castiel looked up at the ceiling. Tears burned in his eyes. "I'm a prisoner, Dean. You've just put a different kind of chain on me."

Dean didn't have anything to say to that. He stood up and kissed Castiel on the forehead. "Get some rest. I wanna hunt that ghoul tomorrow night."

Castiel laid down and stared at the ceiling. What was he going to do?

The next morning Dean had breakfast waiting again ‒ donuts this time ‒ and newspaper articles spread out on the coffee table. He went over the hunt with Castiel. Castiel ate and watched him silently.

As night drew on Dean began packing up. They'd be leaving after the hunt. Castiel zipped up his bag and sat down. He watched Dean pile the chain into his own bag and check the room for anything else. Castiel carefully noted where Dean put his phone: left jacket pocket. Dean never left it out within Castiel's reach but if he waited long enough and was vigilant maybe Dean would slip up. Castiel would be ready for it if he did.

Dean drove them out to a cemetery late that night.

Dean parked the car in the driveway and turned it off. Castiel forced himself to stay still. The cemetery was far outside of town. No one would be around for Dean to hurt. He could run away or sneak into one of the buildings on the cemetery grounds and look for a phone to contact Sam.

Phoning Sam and returning would be the more honourable choice, Dean could always drive back to town and hurt someone if he ran. He could phone Sam, tell him where he was, then slip back before Dean realized what had happened. No one innocent would get hurt and they would be that much closer to curing Dean.

He wanted to run. He wanted to run so badly. He wanted to not care about what Dean might do to innocent people if he ran. Twisting hot shame filled him at the thought. He shouldn't want to run. He shouldn't wish he didn't care. He should want to make sure no one got caught up in Dean's path. He should _want_ to do the right thing.

Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He glanced over at Castiel and sighed. "I gotta ask, you going to take off and leave me as soon as I get out of the car?"

"No." Castiel said. It wasn't a lie. He'd find a phone and come back. Dean would never know.

Dean studied him carefully. He sighed again. He reached into his pocket and took out the handcuffs. "Sorry, Cas. But it could get dangerous out there and I don't want you to get hurt."

Castiel backed into the corner of the passenger seat. He jerked his hands away when Dean reached for them. "I said I'd stay!"

"Humour me." Dean said dryly. His hand darted out and grabbed Castiel's left wrist. He clapped one handcuff to Castiel before he could jerk away and hooked the other onto the passenger door.

Castiel glared at him. He adjusted his arm across his lap and grabbed onto the chain of the handcuff so it wouldn't dig in.

"Thanks." Dean said. He looked down into his lap as if he were embarrassed. "Sorry that it's taking me a little longer to trust you back." He trailed his hand along Castiel's arm. "I want to, Cas. I wanna trust you. But you've left so many damn times."

Castiel's eyes flicked over Dean. Dean wanted his trust, wanted to trust in him in return. Dean wanted to believe they trusted each other. Castiel worked his jaw nervously. "I...I always come back." He clenched the chain of the handcuff tight. "You can trust me to always come back."

Dean sighed. He pat Castiel's cheek. "I want to trust you to stay." He smiled then turned away and pushed open the car door. "Honk the horn if it sees you."

Castiel watched him go to the trunk and get a machete out then stalk into the cemetery. The moment Dean was out of view Castiel opened the glove box and tore out the contents looking for something to pick the lock on the handcuffs. He didn't find anything but maps, nothing he could use to pick a lock or use as a weapon and not a single cell phone.

He moved around awkwardly until he was kneeling on the seat and facing the other way. He leaned over the front seat the best he could and checked the backseat for anything useful. He didn't find anything but a blanket. He turned back around and waited. What else could he do?

Dean came back half an hour later with a bloody machete and stains on his jacket. He went to the trunk first. Castiel double checked to make sure it didn't look like he had tried to escape. The glove box was in order and there was no sign he had tried to investigate the backseat.

A few moments later Dean opened the car door and slid into the driver's seat, topless and his belt unbuckled. Castiel's skin crawled with fear. They used to have sex after a hunt.

Dean smiled at him with black eyes. He slid closer to Castiel. Castiel pushed himself against the door. He felt blindly for the handle. The handcuff rattled. He couldn't get out. Even if he shoved the door open and tried to run the handcuffs would keep him in place. He scrambled around and got his feet on the seat. He kicked out at Dean. Dean grinned and caught his legs. He crawled closer. He parted Castiel's legs and slid between them with ease, shivering at the way Castiel's jeans brushed against the bare skin of his sides.

Castiel tried to push himself away with his free hand. Dean grabbed his hips and dragged him down the seat. The handcuff pulled Castiel's arm up awkwardly until it was tucked across himself. Dean rolled their hips together. The handcuff dug into Castiel's wrist. He couldn't get away.

"Fuck, it's hot when you squirm around like this." Dean growled. He reached down and palmed Castiel's cock. Castiel gasped in fear. Dean grinned. "Missed all the little noises you make."

Castiel got his foot up against the dash and pushed. He slid out from under Dean. Dean crawled over him and pinned his free hand against the seat. He bent down and mouthed at Castiel's jaw while he unbuckled Castiel's pants.

"Missed all the noises you make when I've got a finger or two up your ass." Dean whispered against his skin. He kissed the scars he had left behind as he tugged at the button and zipper of Castiel's jeans.

"D-Dean." Castiel hiccuped in fear. "Please, d—"

"Love it when you beg for more." Dean licked his index finger then shoved his hand down Castiel's pants.

Castiel worked his unchained hand free of Dean. Dean's finger pressed against Castiel's hole, slick and wet with spit. Castiel's heart slammed against his ribs. He drew his arm back and drove the heel of his palm into Dean's throat.

A strangled gasp of pain bit out of Dean. Dean's hand snaked out and grabbed Castiel's wrist. His lips peeled back in a silent snarl. Dean's fingers started tightening around Castiel's wrist.

Castiel gasped. Pain clawed at his chest. He couldn't breathe. He gasped again, heart still pounding. _He couldn't breathe._ Dean slowly squeezed Castiel's wrist. The world started turning hazy around the edges. Castiel desperately tried to heave in a breath. It was as if Dean was squeezing his chest instead of his wrist. He felt like he was choking on nothing. He was going to die right here and Dean would have his soul and it would never stop.

The pain from his wrist stopped.

"Cas? ... _Cas?_...fuck."

Castiel shivered. A soft blanket settled down on top of him. The radio turned on, hissing with static and disjointed songs until it stopped on a station playing gentle acoustic guitar. Castiel curled into the blanket and shook. His heart wouldn't stop pounding in his chest. What if he really did have a heart attack?

_Deep breaths._

Castiel nodded at an absent Sam. He just needed to take deep breaths. He counted his breaths and shivered. He breathed deep. He could do that. He could do this simple human thing just like Sam had asked him to that first time.

When his heart had stopped pounding and his lungs were filling with air he sat up. Tremors raced through him. He felt exhausted and weak. He wished he had talked to Sam more about how to deal with panic attacks.

"That, uh, that happen a lot?" Dean asked nervously.

Castiel flinched at the sound of Dean's voice. He turned towards the door. He curled into himself. He couldn't look at Dean while he was like this. What if Dean still had black eyes? What if he collapsed into a pile of pathetic whimpering flesh and Dean did something to him? He wouldn't be able to fight back a second time.

"Okay...okay, Cas." Dean said. His voice was full of pain. "I didn't realize how I must have looked." His voice trembled. "Fuck, I didn't— I'm so fucking sorry. I'm gonna...I'm gonna find you a motel room for the night. I'll stay in the car. I don't need to sleep anymore anyway. Not if I don't want to."

Dean started the car. Castiel didn't know how long Dean drove but it felt like seconds and a life time. He shivered when the car stopped. Dean got out and came back a few minutes later.

"I got you a room." Dean said.

Castiel reached around awkwardly and pulled the blanket up under his chin. If he went into the motel he'd be condemning everyone inside. He knew he wouldn't stay. He'd run. He'd run and Dean would kill innocent people and it would be his fault. It was better if he stayed in the car. Handcuffed so he couldn't leave, so he couldn't be selfish and trade other people's lives for his freedom.

"Cas?" Dean prompted. His voice was full of nervous concern. "Cas? Buddy?"

"I'll stay here tonight." Castiel croaked. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Just like you want."

Dean made a wounded noise. "I didn't mean..."

Castiel buried his face in the crook of his free arm. The handcuff pinched painfully against his wrist. Dean made a dejected noise. The car shifted as Dean got back in. Dean started the car. Castiel didn't care where they were going.

He had to give up his self-enforced solitude in the early morning. His bladder was pressing painfully against his stomach. He asked Dean to stop the car. Dean pulled off onto the side of the road. Castiel pushed the door open and awkwardly stumbled out. He relieved himself on the side of the road, still handcuffed to the car door, then got back in. He closed the door and motioned for Dean to start driving again.

Dean stared at him. Castiel stared ahead.

"That...uh...what happened back there, that kind of thing happen a lot?" Dean asked again.

Castiel narrowed his eyes at the dark road ahead of them.

Dean shifted in his seat. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I freaked you out." Dean said. Castiel could hear the wet sound of him licking his lips. Dean shifted and fidgeted in the seat. "I'm sorry, but you didn't _say_ anything. You've gotta pipe up if something like that is gonna happen."

Castiel turned his head away. What could he ever have said to stop Dean? He hadn't been able to stop him last time.

"You gotta say something." Dean pleaded.

Castiel's heart gave an angry flutter in his chest. He turned and looked at Dean coldly. "Don't rape me, Dean."

Dean's eyes went wide. "Cas...I didn't...you didn't _say_ anything." He swallowed and licked his lips. "You were begging for it."

"I was begging for you to stop." Castiel said flatly.

Dean's eyes glistened with tears. Castiel wanted to slap him.

"Cas..." Dean swallowed hard. His jaw set with determination. "...I won't ever make a move on you again unless you say it's okay. I promise. I promise I won't hurt you."

"You already promised that." Castiel looked back to the road ahead of them. He wasn't going to fool himself this time, the promise of a demon meant nothing.

They spent two weeks crisscrossing state lines. The first week Castiel spent handcuffed to the car before he trusted himself to not run and put innocent lives in danger.

Dean didn't seem to have a destination in mind. Castiel didn't care. He stayed vigilant; waiting for Dean to let his guard down and leave his phone out or forget to take away the phone in a motel room. Dean never did.

The nights in motels were taxing but being in the car with Dean was torture. Dean was unwaveringly polite. He waxed on about how sorry he was that he hadn't told Castiel he owned his soul. He was deeply apologetic about things _getting out of hand_  and for their _misunderstanding_ the other week. Dean found endless ways to tell him that he loved him and that he was sorry. It was draining. Castiel had never been more exhausted in his life.

But it didn't come as a surprise that, despite the contrite words, Dean still found ways to punish him for things he didn't like. If he told Dean that his love was meaningless as a demon Dean would only stop once in an eight hour car ride to let him use the bathroom. If he ignored him for longer than Dean liked then Dean was sure to keep the lights on at night and the tv as loud as possible while Castiel tried to sleep. If he told Dean that he knew what he was doing ‒ training him to be more agreeable for Dean's purposes ‒ Dean would forget that he needed to eat now. Afterwards Dean would apologize profusely for  _forgetting_ and joke about how they had traded places.

When Dean dropped a stack of newspapers in front of him and told him to find a hunt he didn't bother to argue. He knew Dean was trying to keep up the facade that things had gone back to like they were but a hunt still saved people no matter the motivation of the hunters.

Castiel was flipping through the second newspaper when Dean's phone rang. Castiel kept careful watch out of the corner of his eye. Sooner or later Dean would slip up with his phone. Not even angels were perfectly vigilant. And Dean was a demon, he wouldn't stay vigilant for half as long.

Dean frowned down at his phone. He looked up at Castiel. He held his phone up. "I gotta take this." He stood up. "I'll be back in a minute."

Castiel nodded, keeping his eyes on the newspaper.

Dean stepped into the hall but left the door open just enough that he could listen to Castiel.

Castiel ignored the open door. If he thought too much about it he'd be tempted to run, leaving the other motel patrons to Dean's wrath. He focused his attention on the newspaper. He carefully tore out another obituary— he wasn't allowed to have pens or markers to circle items, least he make a devil's trap.

He added the obituary to the others. That made three unusually extreme deaths in the local confectionery store. He opened up the next newspaper as Dean came back in, closing the door on temptation behind him.

Castiel leafed through the newspaper and tried to ignore the way Dean strode across the room and came to a stop beside him, looming over his work. Sometimes Dean would stop and stare at him. Castiel wasn't sure if he was trying to be humorous by standing too close and staring or if Dean was studying him and planning what to do next. Either way it made Castiel's skin crawl.

Dean coughed and cleared his throat. "Cas?"

Castiel turned the page of the newspaper and tried to look absorbed by his search. Maybe he could plead ignorance of the lack of attention he was giving Dean if he looked focused on a task Dean had given him.

"Cas?" Dean tried again.

Dean started to reach out. Castiel jerked back out of his reach. He shivered and looked up at Dean. Dean's face was full of apologetic sorrow.

"Sorry." Dean said. He looked down at his feet. "Just wanted to tell you, we're gonna go meet Sam for lunch at that diner down the street."

Castiel tensed up, trying to stop the frantic beat of his heart from showing. " _Sam?_ We're going to—" Castiel stopped and breathed deep. He couldn't escape with Sam unless Dean _let_ him leave. Dean might otherwise kill everyone in the diner. He had done it before. And besides that, he couldn't run away. They had to trap Dean first. Castiel forced a smile. "That's nice. Thank you for arranging it."

Dean smiled bright and wide at him. "No problem, Cas." He reached out and gave Castiel's shoulder a squeeze. Castiel couldn't help the shudder that rippled through him. Dean let go with a pleased little sigh then took up a spot on one of the beds in front of the tv.

Castiel spent the next ten minutes trying to focus on the case before giving up. All he could think about was whether or not he'd be strong enough to stay if they botched their attempt at trapping Dean and who would die if they failed. He packed up the case files and set them aside.

"I'm going to go shower." Castiel announced.

Dean nodded. "Cool. We'll head over when you're done."

Castiel was torn between drawing out his shower and speeding through it. What if Sam had a plan to trap Dean and he was free by dinner? What if it failed and Dean was angry about the attempt? Would Dean torture him and leave him for Sam again? He shuddered at the price his freedom might cost. He wanted to say he would gladly submit to hours of torture again to gain his freedom but he wasn't sure he could. It sent him reeling if he _thought_ too long about that night. He doubted his fortitude at facing it down a second time.

He turned the water off when he realized all he had done for the last few minutes was stare at the wall and work himself up into near panic. He stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. He dressed then stared at himself in the mirror, sure that his face must be giving away his thoughts about trapping Dean and curing him. His reflection stared back at him looking anxious and haunted. It was no different than what had looked back at him the last two weeks.

A soft knock at the door was followed by Dean's voice, "You ready to go?"

"Yeah." Castiel closed his eyes and breathed deep. He let his breath out slowly before opening his eyes and reaching for the door. His reflection didn't look any less afraid.

Dean chuckled softly. He shook his head, a fond smile on his face. "Your hair, man."

Castiel quickly combed his fingers through his hair then went for his shoes and jacket. He was so nervous he could barely make his fingers tie up his shoes. What if this was some new trick Dean was playing and Sam wasn't coming?

Dean packed the car up while Castiel fumbled with his shoelaces.

It was only five minutes to the diner but it felt like decades. Castiel spent the entire time drowning in a vicious flood of _what ifs?_

His heart stopped when they walked into the busy diner and his eyes landed on Sam sitting in the corner booth. It launched into his throat when he felt Dean's hand on his back, gently pushing him forward. Dean guided him over to Sam's booth. He eased Castiel down into the booth first then sat down beside him, trapping Castiel in his seat.

Sam looked Castiel over; eyes sad and full of guilt. "Are you okay?"

"Reasonably." Castiel knew Sam meant more than physically but he couldn't begin to explain the depth of his problems in a busy restaurant full of innocents.

Sam turned his eyes on Dean. His face went hard and angry. "Let him go."

Dean huffed as if Sam had said something amusing. He wiped his hand over his mouth and let it drop to his lap. He picked up the menu on the table with his other hand and started reading it over as if they really were going to sit peacefully and have lunch.

"We're all going to get up. Then me and Cas are going to go." Sam said in the voice he used to take control of crime scenes.

"No." Dean flipped the menu over and tapped his finger beside the Thursday lunch special.

Castiel heard the cock of a gun and flinched. He wasn't sure whose it was.

"Let him go." Sam drew himself up. Castiel had seen him intimidate countless adversaries with just that.

Dean shrugged. "No."

Sam's face went angry red. " _Dean."_

Dean's posture turned rigid. He put the menu down. He looked up at Sam; cold and impassive. It was a look that Castiel had learned meant violence.

Castiel reached over and set his hand on Dean's thigh. A shock of surprise rippled through Dean. He looked down to Castiel's hand on his thigh. His face softened.

"Please don't." Castiel hoped begging would work this time. "I don't want to drag innocent people into this."

Dean reached down and covered Castiel's hand with his own. He gave Castiel a warm smile. "It's okay, Cas. It's just lunch." He shot an icy look at Sam. "Unless _Sam_ makes it something else."

Castiel turned a desperate look on Sam. He wanted to tell him now wasn't the time, they couldn't put all these other people at risk, but he was afraid to open his mouth. He wasn't sure what words would come out. He wasn't sure he wouldn't beg Sam to do whatever it took for them to get away, innocent lives be damned.

Sam's shoulders slumped. "Just let him go, Dean. You've got his soul. You don't need to do this."

"He calms the mark." Dean laced their fingers together and pulled Castiel closer. He brought Castiel's hand up and kissed his palm. He set their entwined hands down on the table. "He stops me from hurting people. I know you've been tracking me for months. So you know I haven't hurt anyone since he came back."

"That I know about." Sam retorted angrily.

Dean rolled his eyes. He looked at Cas and nodded at Sam. "You'd think I pissed in his cornflakes this morning."

Sam's lip twitched in anger. He started to speak but Dean was quick to cut him off.

"I'm not seeing anything I really want." Dean tapped the menu with his other hand. He checked his watch. "I think it's time to take off anyway." He stood up, still holding onto Castiel's hand. "See ya around, Sam."

Panic started scratching at Castiel's chest. He looked at Sam, desperate for some clue as to what his plan was. What should he do to help Sam's plan? Encourage Dean to go back to the motel? Try to persuade him to stop in the next town? He couldn't find the answer on Sam's face.

Dean tugged at Castiel's hand, pulling him out of the booth. "Come on."

Sam reached for Castiel's arm. "I'll find you, Cas. Just hold on."

Cold doubt crept into Castiel's thoughts. What if it had been Sam's gun and Sam had devil's trap bullets and he had completely circumvented Sam's plan? 

What if Sam _didn't_ have a plan?

Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel's shoulders and tucked him in close to his side. "Don't bother us, Sam. I mean it." He turned Castiel away before Sam could argue. "Lets go, Cas."

Dean kept him tight against his side as he hurried Castiel to the car. He didn't let go until he had the impala door open and was pushing Castiel down to sit sideways in the passenger seat.

Castiel sat down, his mind racing. He had put so much in Sam having a plan to rescue him and trap Dean. He looked up at Dean. A faint glimmer of hope caught fire in his chest. Maybe all his suffering hadn't been for nothing. Maybe it wasn't all for nothing now either.

"Is it true?" Castiel asked. "Does my presence really calm the mark?"

Dean shrugged. He flicked his hand dismissively. "Not really. Just figured Sam would feel a bit less guilty about leaving you with me if he thought it was calming the mark down."

Castiel's throat constricted as he choked back a sob. He turned away. It had all been for nothing and now he was at Dean's mercy again.

Dean bent down and reach into to the car to gently squeeze his shoulder. "Hey, don't cry. It's okay. It might still be there thumping away but you keep _me_ calmer. You make me strong enough to not turn into Cain."

Castiel pressed his hand to his face. Dean's words ate away at him. Maybe he did make Dean strong enough to not turn into Cain but he wasn't enough to stop Dean from being a demon. He wasn't enough to stop Dean from killing people or tormenting him.

"I know this has gotta be tough for you. But we'll get through this. You'll see." Dean said, brushing his knuckles over Castiel's cheek.

Castiel leaned away from the touch. He wished Dean would stop pretending to be contrite and understanding. He wished he would just drop the act and admit to what he was and that nothing good would come of any of this. What did it matter to a demon that he knew it was a demon?

"You just gotta remember that I love you." Dean said. His lips pulled up into a forced smile. "And I know that's your _I love you too_ scowl."

He dropped down into a crouch in front of Castiel. He placed his hands on Castiel's knees and gave them a gentle squeeze. "Okay, buddy, I gotta do something now that might freak you out a little bit but I'm gonna go slow. You tell me if it gets to be too much and I'll give you something to help you calm down."

Castiel blinked and looked down at Dean between his legs, gently tugging his knees apart. Castiel's heart started to race. Dean's hands slid down his left leg and tugged at his shoe. Castiel scrambled backwards over the seat. Dean's grip on his leg tightened.

"Cas, I'm just patting you down to see if Sam thought he'd try to mess things up." Dean said gently. He slowly pulled Castiel back down the seat. "I'm just going to pat you down from your toes to your knees and then your arm. I won't touch anywhere else. I promise. It'll only take a second."

Dean dragged him back into a sitting position. Castiel buried his face in his hands and tried not to cry. Dean didn't like it when he cried and he didn't know what would happen if someone came over and tried to help.

It was almost a relief when Dean finished and came up with nothing. Sam hadn't given him instructions or put a tracking device on him. He hadn't missed his chance to trap Dean and escape.

Dean put his legs into the car and buckled him in. He closed the car door then walked around to the driver's side. Castiel envisioned himself taking off the seat belt, shoving the car door open, and running until he found Sam. He'd never make it. Dean would chase him down and drag him back.

His hand drifted to the buckle of his seat belt anyway. His thumb brushed over the button. Even if he got away Dean would punish him for it one way or another. Dean would kill someone and make sure Castiel knew that it was his fault they were dead. Running wouldn't work. Not without a plan.

He pressed the button.

The seat belt rolled up. He reached for the door handle. Someone would die if he got away. Dean had already threatened to kill a hotel full of people. Castiel's fingers clenched the door handle. He squeezed his eyes shut. If he left Dean would do something terrible to innocent people. He made himself let go of the door handle. He couldn't pay for his freedom with the lives of others.

The driver's side door opened. Dean slid in. "I'm thinking I drive for a few hours before finding a motel. Then we clean up and put the FBI suits on and go to a swanky restaurant." He turned to Castiel and smiled. "What do you think? We could tell everyone we're millionaires. Order fancy champagne. Spin a whole story about, I dunno, sailing around the Gulf of Mexico." He licked his lips and grinned wickedly. "Think they'd kick us out for making out in the bathroom?"

Castiel shivered then grabbed the door handle and pulled. He kicked the door open and ran. Dean yelled behind him. Castiel kept running. He couldn't remember which way they had gone to get to the diner. His mind wouldn't offer up anything more than the panicked thought of _get away!_

He ran blind until he his legs started to buckle under him and his lungs burned. He came to a stop behind a hardware store. He slumped against the wall and heaved in breath after breath. He needed water. He needed to keep moving. He needed to figure out where he was and how to find Sam.

He tried not to think about what Dean might be doing.

His legs gave out beneath him. He slid down the wall until he hit the ground with a thump. His thigh cramped up. He dug his fingers into the muscle and tried to massage the cramp out. A sense of deep injustice settled over him. He was supposed to be an angel. He wasn't supposed to get muscle cramps.

None of this was supposed to happen. Dean wasn't supposed to be a demon. He wasn't supposed to be a fragile human. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to anyone. Something like the mark shouldn't exist without a way to stop it except by the bearer's own hand. And he shouldn't be so weak and ineffective. If there was evil there needed to be someone capable of protecting others from it.

He massaged the cramp out of his leg and forced himself to get back up. He wasn't an angel and Dean was a demon. The world wasn't fair. All he could do was work with what he had to stop Dean from hurting people. He'd find Sam and they'd work out a plan to trap Dean.

A familiar noise bounced off the concrete wall he was leaning against. Castiel laughed bitterly. The rumble of the impala was unmistakable. He didn't turn to watch it come around the corner. He threw his head back and screamed out wordless frustrations. He dropped his head back down and stared ahead. He let himself drown in the cold feeling filling up his chest. The world wasn't fair.

The car stopped in front of him. Dean opened the door and got out, rope in his hands. Flecks of blood dotted his shirt and one side of his face. His jaw was tight with anger. He looked Castiel over with black eyes. He stepped forward. Castiel didn't bother to move. Dean reached for Castiel's hands. Castiel numbly watched Dean tie up his wrists and ankles before Dean picked him up, slinging him over his shoulder with ease. Dean opened the back door and laid Castiel out on the backseat. He tossed a blanket over Castiel so they wouldn't attract attention on the road.

Dean leaned over Castiel, eyes still black. "That was real stupid, Cas."

Castiel stared back at him silently.

Dean made a disgusted noise. He pulled back from the car and slammed the door closed. He threw himself into the driver's seat and yanked the door shut. He turned the car on. A moment later the radio blasted from the front. Castiel stared at the roof of the impala and tried not to wonder how many people had died because of what he had done.

Dean didn't stop until well after sunset. He carried Castiel into a dingy motel on a desolate strip of deserted highway. He tossed Castiel onto the bed then left. He came back moments later with a duffle bag that made the walls rattle when Dean dropped it to the floor.

Castiel watched as Dean took out the chain and the locks.

Dean untied his feet then fastened one end of the chain around his ankle. He gave Castiel a sharp look before disappearing into the bathroom with the other end of the chain. A few moments later he was prowling the room and collecting anything Castiel might use to escape. It was all tossed into a bag that Dean took out to the car.

Castiel was glad that the temptations to escape were gone. He was already responsible for hurting at least one person today. He didn't want to be responsible for more.

Dean stomped back into the motel room. He marched over to the bed. "I was really hoping we had gotten past this." Dean said, untying Castiel's wrists. "Why'd you even do it? You had to know I'd find you again." His face darkened in anger. "Was it Sam? He told you to do it somehow, didn't he?"

"No." Castiel said. He turned his face away from Dean. There was still blood smeared under Dean's chin.

Dean grabbed his jaw and yanked his head back to look at him before growling, " _Then what the hell was going through your fucking head!?"_

Castiel glared at him then jerked his face out of Dean's grip and rolled onto his side, facing away from Dean.

Dean snarled and stomped across the room. The tv turned on. Dean cranked the volume up. Castiel spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling as infomercials blared through the room.

It was early morning when Dean turned the tv off. A few moments later he came to the bed and put handcuffs on Castiel. "I'm going out for a bit. Don't do anything stupid."

Castiel looked down at the handcuffs and chain around his leg. He looked back to Dean. What did Dean think he'd be able to do?

Dean glowered at him. He pointed a finger in Castiel's face. "Be good."

Castiel watch him stomp out the door. He counted off four minutes before he pushed himself up and off the bed.

He went to the bathroom, quickly discovering the other end of the chain was wrapped around the base of the toilet. He went to the red-stained bathroom sink and turned on the tap. The water sputtered and came out brown at first. He waited for it to run clear before washing his hands and splashing water on his face. He cupped his hands under the flow and brought a mouthful of water to his lips. The water tasted like old blood. He drank a few more mouthfuls then went back out to the bed and sat down.

He felt exhausted in everywhere imaginable. His body ached with the need for sleep, his stomach growled for food, and his mind refused to think of much more than how good it would be to lay down and never move again.

Tears dripped off his cheek and hit the backs of his hands. He snorted and wiped at his face. He hadn't realized he had been crying.

"I can't do this." Castiel whispered to the empty room. Every time he had tried to escape Dean had caught him again and the cost of his failures had finally been paid for by an innocent person.

He laid down on the bed and let his exhausted body drag him under into unconsciousness. He couldn't do this but he didn't have a choice.

Dean woke him up a few hours later. He took the handcuffs off Castiel then pointed at the table. "I got you breakfast."

Castiel looked over. There was a white container opened on the table filled with pancakes and bacon, a small plastic tub of syrup, a plastic knife and fork, and an open bottle of fruit juice. Castiel nodded and went over to the table. What was the point in refusing food? What good would it do him or the person that had paid for his escape attempt?

He picked up the juice and gulped some down. He ate a piece of bacon. He pulled the chair out and sat down at the table. He took another sip of juice before putting the bottle down and picking up the plastic knife and fork.

Dean sat down across from him. "I'm sorry for getting mad yesterday."

Castiel cut up the pancakes then picked up the small plastic tub of syrup. He ripped the foil top off and dumped the syrup onto to the pancakes.

"And for keeping you up all night." Dean continued. He watched Castiel pick up the fork and bring a piece of pancake to his mouth. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. His face turned stern. "But you promised you'd stay and you keep taking off."

Castiel shoved another bite of pancake into his mouth. Dean's face went from stern to angry. Black flickered across his eyes like smoke. Castiel dropped the fork, afraid of what Dean might do. He wiped the syrup from his lips with the back of his hand and tried not to shake. "I— I'm sorry. I wasn't...thinking straight."

Dean's face softened. "It's okay. I know it was just seeing Sam that got your head all screwed on backwards." He reached across the table and picked a piece of bacon out of the container. He stuffed the entire piece into his mouth. "I think we oughta take today to just _relax._ Get it all figured out so that things can go back to normal. What do ya think?"

Castiel couldn't stop the tiny tremors from rattling through him. Normal meant he was a hostage, held prisoner by a demon. He nodded and murmured a quiet,  _okay,_ then bent back over the pancakes. He could feel that now familiar exhaustion creeping back in.

Tears were streaking down his face by the time he had finished the pancakes. He couldn't do this. He couldn't keep pretending everything was fine while desperately wanting to escape.

"Cas, what's wrong?" Dean asked. He offered Castiel a napkin.

"Nothing." Castiel said, taking the napkin and drying his face. "I'm just tired."

Dean watched him carefully, it was obvious he didn't believe him. "Come on, Cas. Remember? It's a two way street. I won't lie to you, don't lie to me. Especially when you're hurting."

Castiel planted his elbows on the table and held his head. "I can't do this, Dean. I don't know what it is you want from me." He breathed deep, trying to hold back the pain in his chest. "But whatever it is, it's too much."

Dean leaned forward and reached across the table. He took Castiel's hands from his head and laced their fingers together. "What can I do to make it better?"

"Let me go." Castiel said weakly. He knew there was no hope of it. "Let us cure you."

Dean sighed like Castiel was a child repeating some nonsensical half understood phrase. He let go of one of Castiel's hands to reach up and brush tears from Castiel's cheeks.

"Cas..." Dean sighed. "There's no cure for the mark. You know that." He squeezed Castiel's hand then let go. He gestured to his eyes. "The problem isn't that I'm a demon. The problem is the mark. Curing me from being a demon just makes the mark uncontrollable." He shook his head like they'd had this conversation a thousand times before. "The only cure for the mark is killing me."

Castiel's chest heaved with an echo of the pain he had felt when Metatron had killed Dean. As much as he wanted to stop Dean from killing he couldn't kill Dean. There had to be another way.

"You could give it away." Castiel whispered. His stomach twisted in self-loathing. Would he really condemn someone else? "Cain gave it to you. You could give it away."

Dean jerked back in shock. "To _who?"_ He shot a disgusted look at Castiel. "Who should we pin this on, Cas? Who are we gonna screw up like this?" He motioned to himself. 

Castiel's shoulders slumped. Dean was a demon and he knew he couldn't believe anything he said but he was right. How could they ask someone to become what Dean was? How could they force that on someone knowing they'd have to kill them?

Dean pushed up from his seat. He wiped his hand over his face as if trying to hide the bitter disgust there. "I could probably let Sam talk himself into it. Lord knows he's messed up enough to think it's the right thing."

Castiel shook his head. They couldn't let Sam take the mark. Sam didn't deserve this fate any more than Dean did.

"No? Well, Crowley would take it no problem, but do you really want the King of Hell to be able to use the first blade?" Dean said dryly. He glanced over at Castiel and jut his chin at him. "What about you? You want this?" He slapped his arm where the mark was. "No more worrying about your grace. You'd be free and clear of Heaven."

Castiel looked away, ashamed. He wanted to say yes. That he'd take the mark for Dean's sake. That he'd take it and kill himself and remove the mark of Cain from the world. But it terrified him that he could fall even further; become an affront to God if his will wasn't strong enough to do the right thing. He wanted to say yes but he was a coward.

"What? You don't want it?" Dean said in mock surprise. "It's pretty nice, Cas. Keeps you warm and toasty and wraps all around you until all you have to do is take exactly what you want."

Castiel stared down at the table top and shook his head.

Dean sat back down at the table and took Castiel's hands again. "Hey, it'll be okay. I got this under control."

Castiel swallowed back a sob. Dean didn't have this under control. Dean had killed someone yesterday. Dean was holding him prisoner and had possession of his soul.

"Here." Dean let go of Castiel's hands and snagged the half drank bottle of fruit juice. He held it out to Castiel. "Finish up your juice. It's got mangoes and stuff. Vitamin C. It'll make you feel better."

Castiel took the bottle in shaking hands and drank the last of it. He frowned at the last gulp. There had been something gritty on the bottom.

Dean smiled and pat his hand.

Castiel held the bottle up and looked at the bottom. There were small bits of white dissolving, as if someone had ground up chalk and put it in the juice.

Or a pill.

Castiel dropped the bottle as if it had bit him. The bottle had already been opened when he had sat down. His eyes snapped up to Dean's. "What did you put in it?"

"Don't worry about it. It'll help you feel better." Dean said, gathering up the garbage from breakfast. "Lay down. Relax. You'll feel better. I swear."

Castiel's eyes darted towards the door. His legs tensed. If the chain wasn't wrapped around his ankle he'd run again; doom some other innocent person. But it kept him where he was, sitting at the table and trembling.

Dean stood up, taking the empty bottle with him.

Castiel heaved in a shaky breath. "You promised not to hurt me."

He knew it was stupid to cling to the promise of a demon but he had nothing else.

Dean jerked his head around and stared at him in confusion. "What?"

"You promised you wouldn't hurt me." Castiel repeated. He felt so small sitting at the table, so fragile and human. Dean had drugged him and he didn't know what it would do to him. He didn't know what _Dean_ would do to him.

What if Dean planned on torturing him again and wanted him even more vulnerable? What if Dean had poisoned him so he could have his soul now? He couldn't do anything to stop either.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." Dean said. He studied Castiel carefully before nodding to himself. He tossed the garbage into the trashcan then went back to the table. He sat down across from Castiel again.

"Okay, here's what you're going to do." Dean said, pointing at Castiel. "You're going to stop winding yourself up. You're going to go have a nice hot _relaxing_ shower and then you're going to have a nap."

Castiel wasn't sure if the nervous feeling racing under his skin was his own or because of whatever Dean had given him. He shook his head. Dean had drugged him. He couldn't _relax._

Dean sighed. He stood up and strode around the table. He grabbed Castiel's shoulders and pulled him to his feet. Castiel tried to duck out of his grip, Dean only held him tighter.

"Come on, Cas." Dean said gently. He started pushing Castiel towards the bathroom. "You're just working yourself up about it. You'll feel better if you stop overthinking it. I promise. What I gave you? It'll only make you feel good. If you hadn't noticed it you'd just think it was a great idea to have a nap and wake up feeling like a million bucks."

Dean stopped pushing him when they were in front of the bathtub. He reached around Castiel, pulled the shower curtain closed, and turned the water on. He stepped back and turned Castiel around. He held Castiel's face and looked into his eyes. "I'm gonna get your PJs for you then I'll take the chain off. You're gonna have your shower, then a nap, and then you'll feel better. Okay?"

Castiel slowly nodded. Dean pat his shoulder and left. He was back in seconds with the soft sweatpants and t-shirt Castiel slept in. Dean put his clothes on the floor near the door. He motioned for Castiel to sit on the toilet seat. Castiel chewed his lip and backed away. He didn't want Dean to touch him.

Dean put his hands up. "Okay. I get it." He reached into his pocket and took out the key to the lock on Castiel's ankle. He set it on the back of the toilet. He backed up until he was standing in the doorway. "I'm gonna be just outside the door if you need anything."

Castiel watched Dean push the rest of the chain into the bathroom and then pull the bathroom door closed. Castiel dove for the key as soon as Dean was out of sight. It took him whole minutes for his shaking fingers to undo the lock and unwrap the chain from around his leg.

He dropped the chain to the floor and stared at the door. He didn't know what to do. He wasn't chained up anymore but Dean was between him and escape. If he tried to escape again someone innocent would get hurt or killed and then Dean would find him again and hurt him. If he didn't try to escape Dean would keep tormenting him and probably hurt or kill people anyway.

He reached for the doorknob then snatched his hand back. _Dean_ was out there. He paced the bathroom. A nervous jittery feeling was bubbling under his skin. He didn't know what to do. No matter what he did Dean would hurt someone.

He tripped on the chain, sending it rattling across the floor. He jumped back. His heart raced in his chest.

"Cas? You okay?" Dean asked from the other side of the door.

Castiel shook his head and plastered himself to the far wall. His skin felt like it was pulsing along with the thump of his heart.

"Cas?"

The door slowly opened. Dean stuck his head into the bathroom. His eyes went wide as he took Castiel in. He put his hands out in front of him, palms up. "Hey, Cas. Why don't you sit down for a minute? Maybe drink some water. I can play some music."

Castiel flinched at the mention of music. "On your phone?"

Dean glanced down at his pants pocket. He frowned. "Yeah, but, uh, I'll just hold onto it while it plays."

Castiel took half a step forward. If he could just get Dean's phone he could phone Sam. Sam would come. They'd find a way to trap Dean and then he wouldn't have to do this anymore.

Dean reached out for Castiel's shoulders. Castiel darted sideways. The wall gave out behind him. He yelped as he crashed through the shower curtain into the warm spray of water.

" _Oh fuck!"_ Dean bolted towards Castiel. He grabbed at Castiel's arms, trying to pull him upright.

"Don't touch me!" Castiel thrashed his arms wildly at Dean's hands. He scrambled to the far end of the shower. He slid to a stop and hit the end of the tub. He dropped down and sat with his knees pulled up to his chest.

"Okay. Okay, Cas. Just calm down." Dean backed up. He pulled what was left of the shower curtain closed.

The tension drained from Castiel as soon as Dean was out of sight. He shivered despite the warm water pooling around him. The sound of slow crooning music filled the bathroom. Castiel closed his eyes and stuck his head under the water so he couldn't make out the words. He didn't want to have to try and parse out the cultural metaphors that he never understood anyway.

Four songs played through before the music cut out.

Dean cleared his throat, "How're ya feeling, buddy?"

Castiel ducked his head down, letting water run along his chin in rivulets. He moaned, "I don't know."

"Okay, how about I go sit outside the door and let you shower?" Dean said. "I'll keep the door cracked open a little bit so you can still hear the music."

"I...I..." Castiel opened his eyes to stare down at his soaked jeans. "...alright."

"You just shout if you need me." Dean said.

Castiel listened to Dean shuffle out of the bathroom. The music came back on. Castiel stared down at his wet socked feet. He didn't know what to do. He wished Sam was there with him. Sam would know what to do. Sam would have a book to read.

But Sam wasn't here.

Castiel shuddered then peeled his socks off. He fought with his wet shirt to get it over his head. He tossed it to the bottom of the bathtub. He undid his pants and pushed them down to the middle of his thighs then squirmed and kicked at them until the wet denim was tangled at his feet. He kept his boxers on. He didn't want to be naked with Dean sitting just outside the door.

He watched the water pool up around his legs before shifting and letting the water drain away.

The steady rhythm of water eased his breathing. He stared at his feet with wide eyes. If he listened closely he was sure the beat of the music synced up with the flow of water.

When the nervous tremors stopped rocking through him he thought through his options. Each plan sounded less reasonable the more he thought about it. Whether he escaped or stayed people would die and Dean would torment him and it would always be his fault.

He was so _human._ He didn't know what to do next, just like every human he had ever met.

He brought his knees back up to his chest and rested his head against them. He felt so... _muddled._ As if his brain didn't fit in his skull. He breathed deep against his legs; humid air soothing his throat as if he had been dying of thirst.

The muddled feeling eased back from his head and travelled down his spine. The hot water massaged the feeling into his back. He let out a little sigh as the tension in his shoulders melted. He stayed where he was until that feeling had spread through him, from the tips of his toes to his fingers.

The water lulled him into a puddle of flesh slumped against the wall. He didn't want to leave the shower. He didn't want to go back out and be human and deal with Dean. He didn't want to deal with all the consequences that went with it. He wanted to be an angel again. He wanted to go back to when all those human things hadn't mattered, to when he hadn't understood any of them.

He stirred from his spot when the humidity became stifling. It wasn't easing the nervous feeling anymore. It was wrapping around him and squeezing his lungs.

He reached behind himself and turned the shower off. He sat in the tub, naked except his boxers, and tried to think of what he needed to do next.

Distantly his mind offered a weary, _run away_ , but the half formed thought made him shiver. It was too much. He couldn't do it. He was so _tired._ He just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. He wouldn't have to be human if he could just sleep forever.

He sluggishly turned his head to the side. Dean had left his sleepwear by the door. He might not be able to run away but he could sleep.

He made himself stand up and push his wet boxers off. He pulled the shower curtain open. The air on the other side was cooler but still warm. It was pleasant instead of suffocating, like the air itself was embracing him. He made himself step out of the shower.

He looked down to the floor for his sleepwear. It weren't there. His eyes flicked around the room for them. They were gone. Fear started creeping into him. His clothes were gone.

The bathroom door pushed open. Dean slipped into the room. Castiel grabbed the shower curtain and pulled it across himself.

"Hey, it's okay." Dean said. He put his hand out and leaned forward. "Nothin' I ain't seen before." He wiggled his fingers, encouraging Castiel to take his hand. "Why don't you just lie down for a bit?"

Castiel pulled the shower curtain tighter around himself. "I want my clothes."

"I'll get them for you." Dean said. He stepped closer to Castiel. "But why don't you lie down first? You look, uh, _wiped."_

Castiel worked his jaw. He knew he wanted to say more, to object, but he could only repeat himself. "I want my clothes."

"I know, Cas. And I'll get them for you." Dean said gently. "But let's get you out of the bathroom first. I don't want you to slip again and crack your head open."

Castiel stepped back, his calf muscle bumped into the tub. He didn't want to go anywhere with Dean. He wanted his clothes. He stepped backwards into the tub, pulling the shower curtain with him. His foot squished in a pile of wet cloth. He looked down. His soaking wet shirt and jeans were still there. He bent down and scooped up his shirt.

Dean grabbed his hand and stopped him from pulling his shirt on. "Cas, that's soaking wet. I promise you, I will get you some _dry_ clothes if you just get out of the shower."

Castiel looked down himself. He couldn't get out of the shower. He was naked and _Dean_ was there. He looked up to find Dean watching him and still holding his hand. Castiel dropped the shirt and grabbed at the shower curtain. He pulled it more tightly around his waist.

"Okay." Dean nodded to himself. "Okay, I got ya. You wait here a second."

Dean dashed out of the bathroom. Castiel blinked, trying to process Dean's sudden absence. His eyes slid down to the bottom of the bathtub and landed on his jeans. He grabbed them off the bottom of the tub and shook them out. He jammed his foot into them. His foot caught as the wet jeans stuck to his skin. He jumped when Dean bustled back into the bathroom.

Dean held out the comforter from the bed. "Here. It's warm and dry. I promise."

Castiel dropped his jeans. They landed with a wet splat. He grabbed the blanket from Dean and wrapped himself up in it.

"That's it." Dean encouraged. He set his hands lightly on Castiel's sides and guided him out of the bathtub. "You're doing great, Cas." He shuffled backwards, leading Castiel from the bathroom. "Just a little further."

Castiel buried his face in the blanket and let himself be guided through the motel room. They came to a stop. He was turned around on the spot then gently pushed until he was sitting down on the bed. If he didn't think too hard about who was helping him his heart didn't try to race from his chest.

"There ya go." Dean said. He eased Castiel down until he was laying out on the bed. He stroked the top of Castiel's head. "I'm sorry, Cas. I didn't think you'd freak out like this. You were fine the last time."

Castiel pulled the blanket over the top of his head so Dean would stop touching him. Tears dampened the blanket. "Why can't you just be Dean again?"

Dean pet his shoulder through the blanket. "I'm still Dean."

"No you're not. You're a demon." Castiel sobbed into the blanket. "Why can't you be him?"

Dean sighed. "It's okay, Cas. Just close your eyes and let yourself relax." Dean said. He started softly singing, "Heaven. I'm in Heaven. And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak." His singing turned into wordless humming.

Castiel closed his eyes and sobbed into the blanket. The song washed over him until he forgot why he had been upset in the first place. He hiccupped and snorted. He pushed the tear-damp blanket away from his face and grabbed the pillow above him.

Music started quietly playing nearby. He stuffed his head under the pillow. He didn't want to listen to music or think about who was playing it for him. He wanted to sleep and never wake up. He didn't want to do this anymore.

He made himself focus on the rush of blood in his ears, counting off the minutes to the beat of his heart. The steady rhythm reminded him of waves washing up on a beach. His whole body sunk into the rhythm until it felt like he was shapeless and drifting on the ocean, like he was an angel again and human things didn't matter.

The shapeless sensation disappeared when a hand brushed down his back. It felt amazing. Every single cell in his back buzzed with pleasure. The hand swept back up and kneaded at his shoulders. He groaned as the muscles relaxed. He made a soft sound of pleasure into the pillow. He was still drifting on the ocean but now he had a body and it was melting with pleasure.

The hand swept up and down his back a few more times before dipping lower, pushing the blankets down. It rubbed at his lower back before sliding between the mounds of his ass to drag fingers over his asshole. His hips jerked as stars burst before his eyes. The hand grabbed his ass cheek and tugged it aside. There was a warm puff of breath against his asshole. Another finger traced over his hole.

" _Fuck."_ Castiel groaned. He was certain he had never felt anything half as good as having someone finger—

An animal groan ripped from Castiel's throat as a warm wet tongue flicked over his hole.

Castiel moaned and gripped the sheets. He shoved his ass back, chasing the feeling. The tongue pushed harder; pointing and flicking at the centre of his hole, trying to push in. An electric feeling zipped through Castiel. Then the tongue went away.

Castiel panted into the mattress. The pleasure of it all faded from his skin. Doubt started creeping in as his brain tried to piece together why there was an undercurrent of panic racing through him.

The tongue licked over his hole again, lighting a match up his spine. Castiel groaned. He thrust his ass up, seeking out the pleasure that tongue promised.

The bed shifted beside him. A knee planted itself between Castiel's legs and nudged them apart. A second knee slotted between his legs. Two large hands swept down his back, pausing to knead his muscles before grabbing his ass cheeks. They pulled them apart. A stream of air played over his hole. He clenched against it.

There were puffs of air against his skin, as if someone was laughing silently. Then the tongue was back, driving itself into his ass. Castiel writhed and moaned and hoped it would never stop.

A finger slipped into him and pulled at his hole. The tongue pushed in further and flicked up. Castiel's hips bucked. His dick started to fill beneath him, sending sparks of pleasure through him when it brushed against the blankets.

Then it all went away again.

Castiel shuddered. " _Don't stop."_

There was more huffs of laughter against his ass then two hands grabbed his hips and pulled back. His knees slid under him and kept his ass up while his chest pressed into the mattress. A hand curled around his cock and then there was a mouth over his hole, licking and sucking, making him moan and push back. He felt like an angel again, diving into the sun and letting its heat warm him inside and out.

When his cock was hard and aching, dripping pre-come onto the bed, those hands suddenly let go. They grabbed his hips again and turned him onto his back. They pushed his legs up to his chest. A hand slotted into the back of one of his knees, keeping his legs up and his body doubled over, while the other hand wrapped around his cock again. He shivered when the tongue pressed back against his asshole. He was so very close to coming.

A soft moan not from him made him open his eyes. He looked up over his body to see two green eyes staring back at him from over his cock.

The undercurrent of panic rose to the surface. The doubt in his brain clicked into place. It was Dean. His chest heaved in panic. His breaths came in short desperate whimpers. _It was Dean._ His fingers clenched into the blankets. His mind raced for what he should do but couldn't get through the panicked realization that it was _Dean._

Dean made a quiet shushing noise. He kissed the inside of Castiel's thigh and slowly lowered Castiel's legs down to the bed.

Castiel shivered and squeezed his eyes shut. The last time Dean had touched him like this flashed behind his eyes. This time would be worse. It was going to hurt and he was going to beg and plead and cry but he'd never be able to stop it because he didn't have anything Dean wanted.

"It's okay, Cas." Dean soothed. He shuffled forward until he was straddling Castiel's waist. "Just relax. I'll do all the work."

Cool gel spread over his cock. Dean stroked him back to hardness. Castiel flinched when the head of his dick pressed against something warm and wet. He gasped in surprise just as much as pleasure when his cock slid into that wet heat.

His eyes flicked open to stare. Dean was straddling his lap with a look of deep concentration on his face while Castiel's cock was buried to the hilt in Dean's ass.

"You feel bigger than I thought you'd be." Dean murmured. He slowly raised himself up making Castiel suck in a sharp breath. Dean eased himself back down. He picked up Castiel's hands and put them on his hips. His ass squeezed tight around Castiel's cock. "God, you're hard."

Castiel watched dumbly as Dean slowly started fucking himself on his cock. He felt like his body wasn't his own, like he was an angel again watching his vessel from outside.

Dean reached up and gripped his own dick. He stroked to the rhythm he was setting as he fucked himself on Castiel's cock. Dean closed his eyes as if the whole thing required supreme concentration.

Castiel's orgasm stole over him without warning. His hips bucked up out of instinct. Dean's eyes popped open in surprise. He stroked himself faster and slammed his ass down harder. Little moans escaped him, pitching higher and higher.

"Fuck! Oh fuck, Cas! Fuck! Ca—" Dean's eyes went wide with a look of profound shock then rolled back into his head as he came. " _Ah!"_

Castiel flinched as come landed on his chest, one stray drop making it as far as his cheek. Dean slumped down on top of him. He rested his head on Castiel's shoulder. He licked the drop of come from Castiel cheek. He let out a long languid sigh. Castiel felt Dean's body relax on top of him.

Castiel turned his head and stared at the wall. He waited for whatever was going to happen next. He felt his dick soften and slide out of Dean. Come dripped onto him.

Dean trailed a finger over the scar on Castiel's lip. "I hadn't done that before." He pressed a kiss to Castiel's cheek. "I can see why you like it. You feel so close. It was nice." He chuckled to himself. "Fuck, I sound like such a chick."

Castiel pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and tried to stop himself from sobbing. It didn't work. He had laid there and let his panic freeze him in place while the mark befouled something that should have been special.

A soul wrenching sound escaped his throat. That had been Dean's first time and it had been rape— _just like his_. 

Dean jerked his head up in alarm. " _Cas?"_ His eyes went wide with fear. "Cas? Buddy? You getting another bad trip?" He raised himself up and looked Cas over. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd get a bad reaction. You were fine last time."

Castiel wrapped his arms around the demon that was destroying everything he loved and buried his face in his shoulder.

" _I'm sorry. I'm sorry."_ Castiel sobbed. He shouldn't have just laid there and let Dean rape him. He should have stopped it. Another sob wracked his chest. When they finally cured Dean _this_ would be what he remembered. He'd remember that Castiel had fought him all the other times but he hadn't fought him when he got to be on top. Castiel squeezed Dean to his chest. " _God, Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't— I wasn't—"_

Castiel couldn't get out the words; didn't know what words he was even trying to say. The mark was ruining everything.

Dean rolled them onto their sides and snaked his arms around Castiel. Dean murmured into Castiel's ear. "Hey. Shhh. It's fine. It's okay. Cas, it's okay. I'm not mad anymore that you left. I'm sorry I was a dick about it earlier. It's fine."

Castiel shook his head but didn't tell Dean the real reason was he was crying. He didn't want to hear whatever twisted logic the mark was using in Dean's head. He didn't want to hear the denials in Dean's voice that it wasn't rape, that it was _good._

Dean held him and stroked his back until his sobs trailed out to broken sniffles. Castiel heaved in one ragged breath after another. He felt raw inside and out.

Dean brushed the hair from Castiel's face. "You gonna be okay if I go get a washcloth to wipe you down?"

Castiel trembled on the bed.

"It's okay. I'll just be a minute." Dean said, untangling his limbs from Castiel's. He pressed a kiss to Castiel's forehead before getting up. "Shout if you need me."

Dean smoothed out Castiel's hair before heading to the bathroom. Castiel listened to the water run. A few minutes later Dean came back; come washed from his chest and stomach. Dean approached the bed like Castiel was a wild animal he might spook if he moved too fast. He sat down on the edge and gently wiped the come from Castiel's chest, paying extra attention to each scar he had left behind. Castiel choked back sobs when Dean wiped his cock clean with tender swipes of the washcloth.

"You okay?" Dean asked softly.

Castiel felt the tears well up in his eyes. "No."

Dean's forehead wrinkled with concern. He tossed the washcloth aside then grabbed the blankets. He spread the blankets out over Castiel then went to his jacket. Castiel watched him take a bottle out of his pocket. The bottle rattled with the sound of pills.

Dean fished a pill from the bottle. He brought it up to his lips and bit it in half. He put half the pill back into the bottle then came back to the bed. Dean pulled the covers up and slid in beside Castiel. He wrapped his arms around Castiel and pulled him into a kiss.

The other half of the pill pushed against Castiel's lips. Tears rolled down Castiel's cheeks. He opened his mouth and let Dean push the pill in. Castiel swallowed it. He could feel it scratch its way down his throat. He didn't know what it would do but it had to be better than this.

Dean wriggled up the bed and tucked Castiel's head under his chin. "It'll be okay." Dean whispered into Castiel's hair. "Just relax and have that nap. You'll feel better. And I'll be right here when you wake up."

Castiel curled into Dean's chest, trying to take solace from the nightmare he surely must be having.

Dean was standing over him, naked and stroking Castiel's hair, when he woke later that day.

Castiel jerked away, grabbing for the blanket to cover himself. Dean made a pathetic dejected noise and backed away from the bed. Castiel's eyes flicked over Dean, trying to gauge what would happen next. He still felt muddled from whatever Dean had given him. He didn't think he'd be able to do much to defend himself if Dean felt inclined to hurt him.

"I got you dry clothes." Dean pointed to a pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. It was only a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Dean stared down at the floor and shuffled his feet. "I'll, uh...go wait outside so you can change."

Dean flitted around the room for his own clothes, pulling them on as he found them, before grabbing his phone from the table and striding out the door.

Castiel stared at the closed motel room door. He was sure Dean was going to come back in, intending to catch him naked.

When the door didn't open Castiel reached down the bed and grabbed his boxers. He pulled them on under the blanket then stared at the door again. It didn't open. He snatched up his t-shirt and pulled it on then pushed himself up from the bed and went to his bag. He needed more clothes.

He needed as much between him and Dean that he could manage. He needed a shield between him and what had happened this morning. He wanted to believe it was a nightmare but he knew it wasn't.

He put on jeans and socks and pulled on a long sleeved shirt over top of his t-shirt. He spotted his jacket hung carelessly on the back of a chair and put that on too. He hesitated for a moment before his fingers were shakily yanking at the zipper to do his jacket up to his chin.

It didn't mean anything. Clothing wouldn't protect him. If Dean wanted to strip him naked he'd laugh and cut his clothes off just like last time.

He found his boots and put them on anyway. It wouldn't help but he felt better for it.

He was tying up the laces of his boots when the glint of metal caught his eyes. He looked up. The keys to the impala were sitting on the table beside a box of tissues.

He stared at the keys. His throat went dry. He couldn't move. Dean had finally slipped in his vigilance and he couldn't move.

His eyes flicked to the door. Dean didn't burst in. He looked back to the keys. He slowly stood. He took two steps towards them then looked to the door again. Still no Dean. He walked over to the table, the picture of calm despite the way his heart was thundering in his ears.

Castiel reached out. He pressed his fingers to the keys and dragged them across the table towards himself. He picked them and stared down at them.

Just a day ago he had tried to run only to have Dean catch him again.

Castiel looked up and flinched in surprise. He was standing in front of the door. He had crossed the short space from the table to the motel door without noticing.

He sucked in a breath and leaned forward to look out the peephole. The parking lot in front of the motel was empty of people. The impala was all of six feet from the door and Dean wasn't in sight.

Castiel clenched his fist closed around the keys. He reached for the doorknob and turned the handle. He pulled the door open.

Dean didn't step in front of him.

Castiel poked his head out past the door frame. He jerked his head back in when he caught sight of Dean at the other end of the motel pushing the buttons of a vending machine.

He bolted out the door.

This time he'd get away. He'd steal Dean's car and get away. Dean would follow him ‒ _of course Dean would follow him_ ‒ but he'd have a head start and access to everything in the trunk of the impala. He'd get away and set up a devil's trap and trap Dean inside.

Castiel jammed the key into the lock of the impala and twisted. His hands shook. His whole body shook. He heard the familiar _thunk_ of metal turning as the car unlocked. He grabbed the door handle and yanked the door open. He slid into the driver's seat and pulled the door closed.

He yelped when his trembling fingers fumbled the keys at the ignition, nearly dropping them to the floor. He saved them from falling then shoved the key home. He turned the key. The car didn't rumble to life.

He caught movement in the corner of his eye. He snapped his head to the left. Dean was coming back from the vending machine. Dean had _seen_ him.

A desperate wordless plea fell from Castiel's lips. He turned the key again. There was a soft click and nothing else. Castiel turned the key again. There was still no roar of the engine coming to life.

" _Please!"_ Castiel begged the car. He turned the key again and again only for nothing to happen. " _Please, just start!"_

The car didn't do so much as come to life and sputter out. Castiel let out an animal sound of rage and slammed his fist on the steering wheel. The car honked as if it were offended to be hit.

Dean slowly walked in front of the car and around to the passenger side. He opened the passenger door and got in. He closed the door then popped the tab on the can of coke he'd bought from the vending machine. He didn't say a word, he just sat and drank.

"Your car won't start." Castiel said. His chest felt like it was caving in, crumbling down to let out something made of ice and shadow.

"Yeah." Dean paused to take a sip of coke. "I disconnected the battery when I got back yesterday, just in case."

"Ah." Castiel nodded. He calmly took the key from the ignition and pushed open the door. He got out. He breathed deep. He turned on his heel and threw the keys across the parking lot with a frustrated scream. He drove his steel-toed boot into the side of the car then got back in, slamming the door closed.

He heaved in breath after breath, shaking as that cold dark thing inside him ate him alive. He couldn't get away. He'd had the keys and the perfect chance and he couldn't get away. He shuddered. He had tried to get away and he hadn't even _thought_ about what Dean would do to the rest of the people in the motel once he was gone.

He was so very utterly useless. He had stayed with Dean, playing along with Dean's whims, waiting to be rescued but no rescue had come. Or if it had he had sabotaged his own rescue unknowingly. He had tried to run away, rescue himself, but Dean had hurt someone then dragged him back anyway and _made_ him cater to his wants— made Castiel feel like he had raped Dean instead.

No matter what he did it was Dean that decided his fate. Dean had decided from the very first day he had been human.

Dean sipped at his coke again before putting it on the dashboard. "You look like you're thinking some deep thoughts. Mind sharing with the class?"

Castiel stared ahead and flexed his fingers around the steering wheel. He had never been in control of this. Even when he had been with Sam it had only been a matter of time before Dean caught up with him again.

"Cas?" Dean gently pressed his hand against Castiel's shoulder. "You okay, buddy?"

"Not really." Castiel said. He felt like he was falling into nothing with only Dean to catch him at the bottom.

Dean took his hand away. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable in the silence between them. He tapped his fingers on the dashboard. "So...where'd you want to go?"

Castiel wiped a hand over his face. Away. He had just wanted to get away. But he'd never get that. He had bought a demon at the price of his soul. That's what he'd get. He was human and he was damned. The best he could do was try to stop the collateral damage inflicted on innocents and he was too weak to do even that. Too _selfish._

Castiel dropped his hands to his lap. "The first time I was human I encountered one of my brothers. Hael. I thought she was trying to help me but....she wasn't. I had to kill her in order to escape. But before that she told me that she had made something on this continent. I believe people call it the Grand Canyon now. I'd like to go there."

Castiel stared ahead at the motel room door. He could feel Dean's eyes boring into him. He turned to look at Dean. "Have you been there before?"

"...no." Dean answered slowly, as if suspecting a trap. "You'd think I would have though, right? With all this driving around I do." Dean sat quietly for a moment, taking careful stock of Castiel. "...why?"

"Why what?" Castiel asked.

Dean arched an eyebrow at him, as if wondering what game they were playing. "Why do you suddenly want to go to the Grand Canyon with me?"

"So I can jump off and die." Castiel said flatly. It would be over. He'd go to Hell and be punished for not being enough to save Dean. He wouldn't be the reason people died at Dean's hands. He wouldn't have to fight any more because there would be no way out, no hope of rescue. He could let Dean do whatever it was he wanted and it wouldn't matter.

"Cas..." Dean sucked in a wounded breath beside him. "Don't‒ don't talk like that."

Castiel shook his head. "...everything I've done. Or couldn't do." Castiel sighed. His limbs felt numb from the cold in his chest. "I've let this happen. I can't fix it. I can't trap you on my own. I can't make you give up my soul. And if Sam doesn't come and save us soon I'm going to run again because I'm a coward and I can't see this through. Innocent people are going to die because I'm weak and selfish. I'd rather just..."

Dean slid across the seat and pulled Castiel into a hug. He buried his face in the crook of Castiel's shoulder. "You're not weak, Cas. You're not selfish. You're not a coward. You're the strongest son of a bitch I know and you care about everyone." He squeezed Castiel against him. "I love you."

Castiel let his head tilt back to stare at the roof of the car while Dean held him for what felt like hours. When Dean finally peeled himself away he took Castiel's hand and tugged him across the seat.

Dean pushed the passenger side door open and coaxed Castiel out behind him. "I'd let you stay in the car while I get the keys but I don't think that's such a good idea right now."

"Probably not." Castiel agreed, sliding over the rest of the way and getting out. He didn't know what he'd do if Dean didn't still have a firm grip on his hand. He didn't know if he'd sit and wait, numb from the cold in his chest, or if he'd watch the traffic on the highway for a few moments before going out to meet it.

Dean frowned at him. He gave his hand a gentle squeeze and stroked his thumb over the back of Castiel's hand. He guided Castiel along beside him while he searched the gravel parking lot for the car keys.

Dean found the keys four parking spots away under an old rusting van. He led Castiel back to the car and locked it up. He tucked the keys into his pocket then decided that a short walk might be good for them. Castiel shrugged and let Dean take him where he wanted.

They walked around the motel three times. One of the other patrons swore and shouted at them on the third trip around because Dean was still holding Castiel's hand. Castiel didn't particularly care, the words rolled through him like they were nothing. And the man's assumptions weren't far from the truth. Dean had done most of the things the man was yelling about, only they hadn't been sex, it was rape. Dean flipped the man off and threatened to break his nose. Dean decided they needed to eat a late lunch after that.

They walked to the diner beside the motel. Dean ordered them both club sandwiches and fries. Castiel stared at the plate when it came. He pushed the fries across the plate and picked up the sandwich twice but couldn't eat it. He just wanted it to be over. He didn't want to have to worry about human things like eating and drinking. He didn't want to have to worry about how many people would die when he tried to escape again. And he would because he was a coward. A useless selfish coward.

Dean frowned and rubbed his back and murmured about how much he loved him.

After an hour Dean asked for takeout containers and the bill. He balanced the takeout containers in one hand while keeping a firm grip on Castiel with the other.

When they got back to the motel room Dean eased Castiel down to sit on the bed. He took Castiel's jacket off and set it aside. He eased Castiel's boots off next then grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of Castiel. He sat down then pulled one of Castiel's feet up into his lap. He pressed his thumbs into the ball of Castiel's foot and started kneading.

"How're you feeling?" Dean asked.

Castiel thought it over. He didn't really feel like anything. He wasn't exhausted from living with Dean. He wasn't afraid of what Dean might do next. He wasn't pitying his own failures.

He shrugged. "Cold. I guess."

Dean frowned at his answer. "Cold like you need a blanket? Or cold like you need a hug?"

Castiel closed his eyes and sighed. He was cold like he had lost everything.

Dean's hands left his foot. A moment later something hard tapped against Castiel's knee. He opened his eyes and looked down. Dean was holding out a pill bottle. Castiel reached out for it. Dean flinched and suddenly jerked his hand back.

"Uh, sorry." Dean rubbed at the back of his neck. His face turned bright red. "Maybe I should just hold on to these for now."

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed, puzzled at first. Then it dawned on him, he had announced that he wanted to die less than two hours ago. He glanced at the pill bottle in Dean's hands. He had seen enough tv and movies to understand.

"I just wanted you to know what I gave you." Dean explained. He opened the bottle and dashed out a pill. He held it up. _AMB 10_ was stamped onto it. "It was only _Ambien._ It helps you sleep. You've taken it before and didn't have a problem with it. I didn't think it would mess with you like it did."

Dean dropped the pill back into the bottle and closed it up. He slid the bottle into his pocket. He looked back up at Castiel. He pressed his hands against Castiel's leg. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I was giving it to you. I thought, after last night, it might freak you out more if I told you."

Castiel stared at Dean's hands on his leg and slowly processed Dean's words.

"When?" Castiel asked.

"Huh?" Dean stared at him, confused.

"When did it I take it before?" Castiel clarified.

Dean's eyebrows shot up before knitting together in concern. "A while back. Remember that day you were hung over worse than Sam after tequila night?"

Castiel nodded. He remembered not knowing what Dean had given him but he had taken it willingly.

"You took it then and slept off your hangover." Dean said. He licked his lips nervously. His eyes snapped down to his hands. He moved them back to Castiel's foot and focused on his fingers working into the muscle of Castiel's foot.

Castiel could see the guilt coming off Dean in waves. There was more. Other times. Dean had given it to him more than once before. Castiel closed his eyes and leaned back on the bed. He counted his breaths the way Sam had taught him to instead of letting his mind wander through possibilities. He didn't want to know how many times Dean had drugged his food and what might have happened after.

Dean went on rubbing his foot, eventually picking up the other one and repeating the same treatment on it.

It was getting dark in the motel room when Dean cleared his throat. "So...uh...how're you feeling?"

Castiel sighed and rubbed at his forehead, trying to press out the hopeless feeling that had settled behind his eyes.

"Cas?"

The hopeless feeling throbbed behind his eyes at the sound of Dean's voice. Castiel pressed his hand flat against his forehead. He just wanted it to stop.

"...Cas?" Dean squeezed Castiel's foot. "...Cas? Talk to me, man. What's going on in there?"

Castiel let his hand fall to the bed. "What does it matter?" He pulled his legs up onto the bed and rolled onto his side.

Castiel felt the bed dip beside him. A moment later Dean was pressing himself up against Castiel's back.

Dean stroked his hand up and down Castiel's side. "Because I'm worried about you." Dean pressed a kiss to the back of Castiel's neck. "Because I love you."

"No you don't." Castiel whispered into the bedspread, bitter and cold. His chest ached at his words. He closed his eyes against the hot tears welling up. "...but I wish you could."

Dean let out a whimper. He pulled Castiel closer to himself and wrapped his arms around him. "Cas, no. I love you. I really do. I just...I didn't realize how much I must have freaked you out the last couple of days. I wasn't...I wasn't really angry with you. I was angry with myself."

Castiel stayed silent and let himself go boneless in Dean's arms. There wasn't anything he could say or do that Dean would accept or believe. Denying what Dean said would only make him be more adamant with his declarations of love and struggling would only make Dean touch him more. Castiel didn't think he could bear anymore of either.

Dean shifted away from him then rolled Castiel over onto his back. "Cas, I'm sorry I got mad and took it out on you." Dean climbed on top of him, arms bracing themselves around Castiel's head and his knee slotting between Castiel's legs. Dean stared down at him, the very picture of concern and apology. "I'm sorry I gave you the _Ambien_ without telling you."

Dean bent his head down and gently kissed Castiel's lips. "I won't do it again." He rocked his hips against Castiel's. His hand drifted down to ruck up Castiel's shirt. He dragged his thumb over one of the longer scars on Castiel's chest. "I'm sorry, Cas. Really. I'm gonna fix this. Get everything back to how it was before."

Bile rose up in Castiel's throat. _How it was before?_ Before when he had always worried about when Dean might next lash out at him? Or before when Dean had tricked him into selling his soul? He tensed as the cold in his chest turned harsh and sharp. He felt his lips pull back to bare his teeth.

" _You're _not__ _sorry."_ Castiel hissed. He couldn't stand the act anymore.

Dean froze over top of him. Castiel shoved at Dean's chest. Dean jerked his head back. "Whoa, Cas. Calm down."

Castiel glared back as tears burned in his eyes, at odds with the cold anger in his chest. He wanted to hit something— _someone._ Preferably the demon on top of him. He shoved at Dean again. It was like trying to push a mountain off him. He shoved again and again. He didn't care that it was pointless, it satisfied some dark animal thing inside him that only wanted to lash out.

" _Cas."_ Dean grabbed at Castiel's arms and pinned them to his sides. Castiel surged up and tried to smash his forehead into Dean's nose. Dean jerked aside, growling out an angry, " _Damn it, Cas! Calm down!"_

Castiel wanted to slap the angry hurt look from Dean's face. He squirmed down the bed; tensing his arms, trying to free them.

Dean shoved his hips down to stop Castiel from moving. He tightened his grip on Castiel's arms. He gave Castiel a stern look. Castiel scowled back.

Dean rolled his eyes. He heaved a sigh and eased his grip on Castiel. "Look, I'm not good at this hurting on the inside stuff. I just drink my way through it. But I'm trying here, Cas. I just need you to meet me halfway on some stuff."

" _Stop."_ Castiel growled. He couldn't take it anymore. He knew what Dean was. Dean knew that he knew. He couldn't take a demon pretending to care about him anymore. " _Stopping acting like that."_

"For fuck's sake." Dean's fingers dug into Castiel's arms. "Like _what?"_ Dean snapped. "How the fuck am I supposed to know what to do if you don't tell me?"

Castiel's sucked in an angry breath. His chest started to heave. His eyes flashed with the vivid desire of raking his nails across Dean's face, drawing blood and Dean's anger. At least that would be real.

Dean gave him a quick shake. "Well?"

"Stop acting like you care! You're a _demon!_ You don't _care!_ You're not _sorry!"_ Castiel shouted. "Stop pretending you didn't drug me and rape me a few hours ago! Stop pretending you didn't kidnap me! Stop pretending like you _love me!"_

Dean's face went icy cold. His lips twitched back, baring his teeth. His grip on Castiel's arms tightened enough to hurt. "Don't fucking lie to me."

Castiel glared back. He wasn't going to apologize for calling Dean what he was now. He didn't care how much Dean hurt him for it. Dean was a demon. No amount of Dean pretending otherwise would change it.

Dean snorted in disgust. He rolled off Castiel and stood up. Castiel pushed himself up to sit against the headboard. Dean watched him, his face turning red with anger. Dean's hand twitched, like it was closing around the first blade.

"I didn't rape you, Cas." Dean said, voice flat and deadly even. He clenched his fists. "Except for the whole thing after Crowley came and screwed everything up, I never raped you. _You_ always said we could. _You_ always wanted it."

A disbelieving laugh choked out of Castiel— _of all the things Dean could be angry about._

Dean stalked closer to him. "Name _one_ time that wasn't when things got out of hand because of Crowley that you said stop or no and I didn't stop." He pointed an angry finger at Castiel. "You name just _one."_

Castiel stared at Dean at an utter loss for words. He felt like he was losing his mind. His chest still felt like a glacier despite the anger burning in him and his mind had ground to a halt. He felt his mouth work open and close but nothing came out.

"That's what I thought." Dean spat. He backed off a few steps.

"That's..." Castiel pressed his fingers to his temples. Maybe he _was_ losing his mind. "That's..."

"That's _what?"_ Dean growled. He stalked forward again until he was leaning over Castiel. "Gonna tell me it was the mark making me hear you beg to watch me fuck you because you wanted to see my soul? Gonna tell me you didn't grab my hair and fuck my mouth in the middle of a vampire nest? Gonna tell me you didn't say _don't stop_ before fucking me?"

Anger boiled up from Castiel's stomach, red hot and vicious. He slapped Dean across the face. "That is bullshit and you _know it!_ You didn't _let_ me say no!"

Castiel was on the floor spitting blood from his mouth before he registered that Dean had hit him hard enough to knock him off the bed.

Dean crouched over him. He grabbed the front of Castiel's shirt and yanked him forward. His eyes turned black. "This what you want, Cas? Want me to be a black-eyed bitch? A demonic fucking rapist who doesn't give a fuck about you or anyone else?"

Castiel heaved in an angry breath. He bared his teeth at Dean. "Fuck you."

"Fine. That's how you want it, you can have it." Dean shoved Castiel back, smashing his head against the wall.

Castiel's vision swam. He groaned and grabbed at Dean's arm. Dean smashed him into the wall again and then Castiel's world went as dark as Dean's eyes.

Castiel groaned awake, naked and in the dark. His head throbbed with pain. He felt nauseous. His jaw clenched down on cloth. He was gagged. Panic burst through him. What if he threw up while gagged?

His hands jerked forward to grab the gag out of his mouth but the metal bite of handcuffs kept his hands behind his back.

Castiel struggled to sit up but quickly hit his aching head off the ceiling. His stomach heaved at the new pain. He laid back down and willed himself not to throw up.

He rolled onto his side. The ruff surface of the bed of the trunk rubbed against his bare skin. He laid still. He was in the trunk of the impala.

But the car wasn't moving.

He strained his ears. He thought he could hear the crunch of boots on gravel but no one came to let him out. He laid there and listened. He didn't know for how long.

A thump above him made him twist his head around. The trunk opened up. Castiel blinked against the light. Dean's strong hands were pulling him out of the trunk before Castiel's eyes adjusted.

Dean dropped Castiel to his feet beside the car. Castiel did his best to steady himself; gravel digging into his feet. The smell of fresh blood crept into his nose. Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and opened one at a time. The light of day made his head ache worse but the sight of Dean made his stomach turn cold. Dean was covered in blood and dirt.

Castiel squinted against the brightness of day and looked around himself. They were in a campsite turned horror movie. There was a body draped over a picnic table, another laying half in the fire pit, and a bloody leg sticking out of a shredded tent. There was blood everywhere. More than what Castiel would expect for just three bodies.

He turned back to stare at Dean. He had known Dean was killing humans as a demon but to see it firsthand made him want to be sick. How many people had died in the last three days because of him?

"What?" Dean mocked. "I'm a fucking _demon,_ right?" He reached into the trunk for his bag. He grabbed a new shirt then peeled off the bloody one. He wiped his face clean with it before pulling on the clean shirt. He looked Castiel over sharply then pulled the gag out of Castiel's mouth. "Aren't you fucking _happy_ getting _your_ fucking way?"

Castiel shrank back.

Dean laughed bitterly. "I thought you _wanted_ me to act like a rabid black-eyed bitch? Be the meanest son of a bitch this side of Hell."

Castiel shivered. What had he been _thinking_ in that motel room? He knew what Dean would do, what he was. He should have laid still and let Dean rape him again. He shouldn't have talked back and made him angry. All those people were dead because he couldn't keep quiet. Couldn't lay still and accept where his choices had led him.

Dean brought one hand up to wrap around Castiel's jaw. He pulled Castiel forward, digging his fingers into Castiel's jaw. "You got a choice, Cas. I can make those nine hours you had with me look like a Sunday drive. I can take you apart in ways you can't even imagine and keep you awake for every second of it. Or you can stop fucking lying to me and actually _fucking **try**_ to make this work."

Castiel's heart raced with fear. He'd been afraid of Dean before. Afraid of what he might do to him or other people but he'd always rationalized it. That it was the mark ultimately making Dean do the things he did. Or being a demon that was distorting how Dean remembered and reasoned. Or that it was his time in Hell tainting his actions. But the way those crystal clear green eyes stared at him now made him fear _Dean._ Not the mark or his demonic nature or the taint of Hell. Just Dean and what he might be capable of.

"I'll—" Castiel trembled. He glanced over his shoulder at the bodies strewn across the campsite. He closed his eyes and nodded. "I'll try." He took in a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry for lying."

Dean grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. He took the handcuffs off Castiel before turning him back around. Dean grabbed Castiel's bag and took out sweatpants and a t-shirt. He shoved them at Castiel's chest.

Castiel brought his hands up to take the clothes. He stared down at them dumbly. He looked back up at Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Get dressed." Dean closed the trunk. "I've got shit to do. Places to go. The world didn't stop spinning just because I'm a demon and you're having yourself a pity party."

Castiel swallowed hard and nodded. He pulled the clothes on as fast as he could. Dean grabbed his arms after, pulling them around his back, and put the handcuffs back on. Castiel didn't slow or struggle when Dean tugged him around to the front of the impala and put him in the passenger seat.

Castiel sat and waited. He kept his eyes ahead, away from the bloody scene behind him. He tried not to think about how if he had just let Dean do what he wanted those people would still be alive.

Dean got into the car five minutes later. He didn't start the car. They sat in silence for a few moments before Dean reached over and grabbed the side of Castiel's t-shirt. He pulled Castiel close and kissed him roughly, worrying the scar on his lip. Castiel shivered and tried to kiss back but all he could do was open his mouth and try not to whimper.

Dean pushed him back across the seat and started the car. He turned the radio on, blasting it loud, and didn't speak for an hour.

Castiel flinched when Dean's hand drifted down to turn the radio off. Dean glanced over at him, an unreadable look on his face. He studied him for a moment before pulling off the main road. He stopped the car in the middle of a tree covered lane and stared at Castiel.

Ever so slowly Dean reached across the seat and rested a hand on Castiel's thigh. Castiel tensed and tried to calm his breathing. Dean didn't move until Castiel's breathes were coming out in steady even beats.

"You know, I don't _want_ you to be afraid." Dean said, shifting across the seat.

He took out the key to the handcuffs. He pushed Castiel forward to get at them. He unlocked the handcuffs and quickly pocketed them along with the key. He eased Castiel back into the seat and took Castiel's hands into his own. He rubbed at the red marks around Castiel's wrists.

Castiel couldn't stop shivering. Would he be able to lay still and let Dean have him again? Or would he fight and get someone else killed? He wished Dean would give him another one of those pills. At least then he'd be too out of it to think to fight.

Dean let Castiel's right hand go. He kept hold of the other one and scooted back into the driver's seat. He squeezed Castiel's fingers and started the car back up. He drove back to the main road holding Castiel's hand.

Five hours later Castiel was being ushered into a motel bathroom. Dean turned the shower on then undressed. He stripped Castiel of his sweatpants and t-shirt. Tremors raced through Castiel. His legs felt weak. He was sure he was going to collapse. He couldn't do this. He had tried to convince himself in the car that it would be better if he just gave in and let go but he couldn't stop his head from screaming in panic.

Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel and pulled him in tight, supporting his weight. "It's okay. We're just going to shower."

Castiel fought back the fear and panic that wanted to swallow him whole while Dean washed his hair and dragged a washcloth over his body. He lurched forward when Dean swiped the washcloth over his asshole. Dean caught him around the middle with one arm and whispered in his ear about calming down.

The washcloth dropped to their feet. Castiel flinched at the soft _splat_ and shook violently as Dean's free hand kneaded his hip, eventually sliding around to his lower back. Dean's hand paused at the top of his ass. Castiel sucked in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for Dean's hand to dip lower.

Instead Dean gently turned him around and guided him under the warm spray of water.

"You're shivering." Dean commented. He grabbed the tiny motel soap and picked the washcloth up from the bottom of the tub. "You keep warm while I wash up."

Castiel didn't know if it would be better to watch Dean so he'd know what he was doing or if he should close his eyes again so he could try to pretend Dean wasn't naked in the shower with him. He settled on staring down at his feet, watching Dean's movements out of the corner of his eye.

Dean finished washing up and switched them around again so he could rinse off. He turned the water off and pushed the shower curtain back. He grabbed two scratchy motel towels and passed one to Castiel.

Castiel dried himself off and made to wrap the towel around his waist. It would be a pathetic excuse for covering himself up but it would be better than nothing. His stomach might stop roiling with dread. Dean took the towel from him before he got the chance.

"With everything that's gone on the last couple of days I'm going to handcuff you to the bed tonight." Dean announced. He took Castiel's hand in his own and led him out into the room. "That okay?"

Castiel stared at the side of Dean's head. _Was it okay?_ It was the farthest thing from okay. But he didn't want to know what Dean would do if he said as much.

"It's fine." Castiel said, pulling the blankets back and getting into the bed at Dean's gesture. He pulled the blankets up to his chin as if that would stop Dean from tearing them off him if he felt like it. He shuddered then offered his hands up.

"Just one hand." Dean said gently. He took Castiel's right hand and snapped the handcuff on. He attached the other end to the headboard. He frowned down at Castiel. He stroked his hair back. "I'm not doing this because we fought. I gotta go out for a bit and I'm worried about leaving you alone after what you said the other day."

It took Castiel a moment to understand what Dean meant, then he realized. The Grand Canyon. He closed his eyes and breathed deep. He didn't actually want to die, he just wanted this to stop.

"Cas?"

Castiel made himself open his eyes and look at Dean. "I understand."

Dean smiled down at him. He brushed his hand over Castiel's cheek then left him on the bed to get dressed.

Castiel stared at the ceiling and listened to Dean dress and eventually go out. As soon as Castiel was sure Dean was gone he rolled onto his stomach, buried his face in the crook of his handcuffed arm, and cried.

All those people had died. And for what? Nothing. He hadn't even tried to escape. He had just been angry with Dean and didn't care who paid for it. Now he was handcuffed to a bed, waiting naked and vulnerable for Dean to return. People had died so he could just end up right back where he had been.

He cried until Dean came back with food. He cut off the sobs that wanted out when the door opened. He didn't know if crying would make Dean accuse him of not trying hard enough and what he might do as punishment. Or who he would punish for the transgression.

"Got some dinner." Dean announced. He kicked off his boots and went to the bed. He sat down beside Castiel and started unpacking a paper bag of takeout.

Castiel sat up, tugging the blankets around his waist, and tried to look interested in the food.

Dean smiled and opened a Styrofoam container, setting it on Castiel's lap. He leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the lips. "Miss me?"

Castiel's mind stuttered on the question. Fear welled up in his chest the longer he didn't answer. Dean wanted an answer. He had to answer. Castiel hoped the expression he forced onto his face was close to a smile. "A little."

He looked down at the container on his lap and kept his eyes there as he struggled through dinner with his left hand. His stomach twisted up with nerves and wouldn't let him eat more than half of it.

Dean cleared their dinners away when Castiel gave up and told him he was full. Once Dean had cleaned up he grabbed the remote for the motel room's tv and turned it on. He muttered to himself about the quality of tv these days as he flipped through channels. He settled on an old western. He crawled onto the bed beside Castiel. He wordlessly took Castiel's hand then turned his attention to the tv.

After the movie was over Dean let him use the bathroom ‒ under supervision ‒ then brought him back to the bed. Dean snapped the handcuff back around his wrist.

"We had a really long day." Dean declared, stripping down beside the bed. "Think it's time to hit the hay."

Castiel's toes curled in terror when Dean pulled back the blankets and slid in beside him. He tried to force himself to stay still but the first press of skin against his own made him jerk away from Dean.

Dean grabbed him around the middle and pulled him in close. He tucked Castiel up against his chest, draping an arm over him. He wriggled in closer to Castiel until they were pressed together from shoulders to hips.

Castiel couldn't stop himself from shaking when Dean's cock started to harden against his ass.

Dean shifted on the bed; cock rubbing against Castiel. "You need another blanket?"

"N‒no." Castiel managed. He could feel Dean frown against his neck. Castiel's throat started to close up in fear. What would happen if Dean thought he wasn't trying hard enough? "No. No, I'm fine." He heaved in a breath and forced himself to reach for Dean's hand.

Dean made a pleased noise and laced their fingers together. He nuzzled his nose in behind Castiel's ear. He squeezed him in a gentle hug and whispered, "I know you're afraid. I'm not blind. I don't expect you to not be afraid. I'm mean, come on, even I know I can be a scary guy." He pressed his cheek against Castiel. "I'm just asking you to try."

"I‒ I'm trying." Castiel croaked. It was taking everything in him to try and lie still. He wanted nothing more than to roll out of Dean's reach and curl into a ball and cry.

Dean's arms relaxed around him. He sighed as if he knew Castiel was only pretending. "I read about this thing called exposure therapy while I was waiting for dinner. You ever heard of it?"

Castiel shivered. He'd never heard of it before but if Dean was talking about it while his cock was pressed against Castiel's ass it couldn't be pleasant.

"No." Castiel said.

"It's where you expose yourself to what you're afraid of until you're not afraid of it anymore." Dean said, slowly bending his leg until his knee was wedged between Castiel's legs. He dragged his knee gently back and forth, rubbing it against Castiel's balls.

Castiel tensed at the contact. His heart shot into his throat. He let go of Dean's hand to clutch at the blankets. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing what was coming.

"We're gonna take it really slow and gentle." Dean murmured against Castiel's neck. His hand slid down Castiel's chest towards his cock. "And if you need to stop for a few moments we will. But it's going to be fine. I won't hurt you. No one's going to hurt you. You'll be fine. Trust me."

Castiel flinched when Dean's hand wrapped around his cock. A desperate sound escaped from between his lips when Dean pressed his own hard cock against Castiel's asshole. Castiel's right hand jerked against the handcuff, metal biting into his skin.

"Hey, it's alright." Dean cooed, rocking his hips against Castiel, dick sliding over Castiel's hole. "Just gonna do this for a while. Everything will be fine. Just relax."

Dean stroked Castiel's cock and rubbed his own against Castiel for what felt like forever. Castiel did his best to cry silently while his ass turned into a slippery mess of pre-come.

The wet sound of Dean sucking on his own fingers made Castiel shudder. A moment later those fingers slipped between Castiel's ass cheeks and rubbed at his hole. A single finger slid inside him. Castiel bit back a terrified gasp. Dean gently pumped the finger in and out.

Dean kissed his shoulder. "You're doing really good."

Castiel whimpered and started shaking.

"You need me to stop for a minute?" Dean asked softly, still pumping his finger. He started pressing in a second one. "It's okay, Cas. You can tell me."

Castiel bit his lip and nodded. "Yes—" His voice cracked. " _Please."_

Dean pressed the second finger in all the way and stopped. A quiet sob shook out of Castiel. He couldn't do this. He curled his arm around his head as tears poured out of him. He couldn't do this. He couldn't _try_ like Dean wanted. And Dean would kill someone because he couldn't even pretend.

"Hey, don't cry." Dean pressed closer to him, shoving his fingers in deeper. "It's fine, Cas. It won't be like that other time." He trailed his free hand up Castiel's side. "It's okay."

"I can't do this." Castiel whimpered between sobs. "Please, Dean. I'm trying but I can't."

Dean breathed slowly against the back of Castiel's neck. He pulled his fingers out of Castiel. Castiel choked out a relieved breath. Dean rolled away from him, the lamp turned off. Dean tugged at Castiel until he had turned him around and pillowed Castiel's head on his chest.

Dean wrapped his arms around him. Castiel shook, gasping in air in pained breaths. Dean stroked a hand down Castiel's back and made soft soothing sounds.

"Shh. It's okay." Dean murmured. "I get it. It's too much after the last few days." He gave Castiel a squeeze. "We'll try again tomorrow."

A sob wracked through Castiel. He wouldn't be able to do this tomorrow either. And then Dean would get angry and either hurt him or someone else. Or both.

Dean kissed the top of Castiel's head. "G'night, Cas."

Castiel spent the night draped across Dean, trembling and crying. The room was slowly filling up with the early blue glow of pre-dawn when Dean slid out from under him. Castiel immediately curled into a shaking ball.

Dean leaned around to study his face. Dean sighed and frowned. "Did you sleep at all last night?" Dean asked gently.

Castiel closed his eyes and shook his head. "No."

Dean let out another sigh. "Okay."

His weight disappeared from the bed. It reappeared a moment later. He pried Castiel's limbs out straight and rolled him onto his back. He pushed two pills to Castiel's lips.

" _Ambien._ We're not going to get into a habit of this." Dean said sternly. Castiel opened his mouth and let Dean drop the pills in. Dean trailed his fingers along Castiel's jaw. "But you need to get some rest."

Castiel curled back up into a ball as soon as Dean left the bed. He trembled and wished the pills would work faster. He didn't want to do this anymore.

When the hazy darkness finally came on Castiel went with it willingly. He wished it would have lasted forever, instead he woke to Dean groaning and thrusting into his ass.

Panic shot through Castiel. He jerked away. Dean's cock slipped out. Dean grumbled about being nearly done before shoving Castiel onto his stomach and rolling on top of him.

"Calm down, Cas. Everything's fine." Dean shifted his hips up and thrust back in, in one smooth slide. " _Oh fuck!"_ Dean's hips stuttered and locked up. He moaned into Castiel's ear. His hips twitched forward one last time then he slumped against Castiel's back. He nuzzled his face against the back of Castiel's neck. "Hmmm, missed this."

Castiel stared at the nightstand and didn't move. He felt like he was going to be sick. Dean kissed the back of his neck then rolled off him. Come leaked from Castiel's hole and dripped down his balls. He shivered as cold disgust for himself filled him. He had known what those pills would do to him. He hadn't even tried to spit them out. He had taken them willingly. He deserved this.

Dean curled up against his side with a satisfied sigh and stroked Castiel's back. Castiel watched the minutes tick by on the cheap motel clock on the nightstand. He deserved whatever Dean did to him for being selfish and letting those people die. He was just a pathetic excuse of a human. How had he ever been an angel? How could he think he was still a soldier?

"I wanna make it to Colorado tonight." Dean said, still stroking Castiel's back.

Castiel closed his eyes and pressed his face into the pillow. The sick feeling rolled through him but his stomach didn't heave into his throat.

"I think I've got a line on some werewolves there." Dean said idly. The bed shifted as Dean reached over and unlocked the handcuffs. He pulled Castiel upright. "Come on. We've been laying around all morning. Time to shower then hit the road."

Castiel stared at him silently. His body ached. Come still leaked from his hole. He wished Dean would give him more of those pills.

Dean quirked a friendly smile at him and tugged at his arm until Castiel stood up from the bed. Dean grabbed his hand and the bottle of lube and led the way to the bathroom. Castiel wondered if Dean would care if he threw up while Dean raped him.

Dean didn't waste time in the bathroom; pressing up against him and whispering filth in his ear as soon as they were in the shower. He slid his fingers into Castiel's already used hole, quick and rough, before pushing him against the wall and shoving his cock in. Castiel counted his breaths and didn't move. He deserved this. Dean kissed his shoulder after then happily set about washing them both. Castiel let himself be pushed and pulled in the shower and silently accepted the clothes Dean picked out for him after.

They were two hours on the road ‒ Castiel had spent most of it silently running his fingers over the cuts and bruises around his wrist from the handcuff ‒ when Dean cleared his throat.

"I was thinking..." Dean trailed off as his face turned pink. He cleared his throat again and squared his shoulders. He took a nervous glance over at Castiel before flicking his eyes back to the road to stare sternly ahead. "I was thinking about what you said."

Castiel turned his gaze up to stare at Dean, confused. He hadn't said anything since Dean had pushed him against the wall in the shower and shoved his cock into him again. He hadn't thrown up either but the sick feeling still hadn't left him.

"I...uh..." Dean's face went from pink to red. He wiped his hand over his mouth and let out an explosive breath. " _Fuck."_ He laughed nervously at himself. The next words came out in a rush. " _Iwantyoutotellme."_

Castiel's eyebrows knitted together as he parsed out the words. They still didn't make sense. He shook his head. "I don't understand. Tell you?"

Dean fidgeted in his seat. "Before. You, uh, you said you didn't know what it is that I want. From you." His shoulders hunched together and tensed. "I just want you to tell me."

It still didn't make sense to Castiel. Did Dean want him to tell him that he wouldn't look for a cure? That he wasn't going to run again? That it was okay if Dean killed people? He might be a worthless excuse for a human that deserved every second of what Dean did to him but he didn't want Dean to kill anyone.

The nervous look on Dean's face turned into something akin to panic. He hit the brakes and pulled the car off the road. He threw the car into park then turned to Castiel.

"It's— I mean—" Dean rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. He sucked in a distressed little gasp. "I keep saying it. But you don't say it. But— I mean...I, uh, I know you do but..." His eyes drifted down to his lap. He stared down at his jeans intently and mumbled. "...it'd just be nice to hear you say it."

Castiel didn't know what to do— _didn't know what Dean wanted him to do._ He licked his lips nervously. What did Dean want him to say?

He went over everything Dean had said that morning. The only questions Dean had asked that Castiel hadn't answered had been the filth whispered into his ear as Dean had fucked him against the wall.

Castiel shuddered at the memory still fresh in his head. His stomach twisted with nausea. He could feel the echo of Dean's lips against his ear as he growled low, _did you miss my cock? Miss me fucking this tight little hole with it? I missed you._

Castiel wanted to close his eyes and turn away but he knew that would only make Dean mad. He kept his gaze on Dean. "I missed you."

It wasn't a lie. He had missed Dean. He _still_ missed Dean. The real Dean. The one that was human and _good_. The one that was his friend and Sam's brother. The Dean that would do anything to save people. The Dean that didn't make him feel sick to be near. His chest ached as tears welled up in his eyes. God, he missed Dean.

"I—" Castiel choked on the next words. He quickly wiped his eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to sound like he had wanted it this morning. That he hadn't been silently wishing Dean would feed him pills until he drifted off into oblivion again. "I missed..." His eyes slid down to the dashboard. He forced the words out. "I missed your cock in my tight little hole."

Castiel winced at the flatness of his own voice. Dean would never believe it. Dean wouldn't even believe he was _trying._ He was going to get someone else killed because he couldn't tell Dean what he wanted to hear.

Dean made a spluttering confused sound. His head snapped up. His eyes flicked over Castiel. His face turned bright red. He pressed his hand over his mouth, covering up a hysteric sounding giggle.

" _Oh, Jesus."_ Dean snorted. He wiped his hand over his mouth and bit back a grin. "I didn't mean _that."_ His eyes dragged over Castiel. He licked his lips. "Not that I'm complaining. Some dirty talk in your Commander Cas voice?" He bit his lip and growled. "Hmmm. Yeah. Definitely not gonna complain about that."

Dean unbuckled his seat belt and slid across the seat to press up against Castiel. He kissed the side of Castiel's neck and worked his way around to his lips.

Castiel let his mouth fall open and let Dean push and pull him into the kiss.

"I meant-" Dean said between kisses. "That it would be nice to hear you tell me that you love me too." He took Castiel's hand and pressed it against the bulge in his jeans.

The ache in Castiel's chest burst anew. How many times had he thought about telling Dean those very words? He had wanted so badly to tell Dean— a _human_ Dean that could love him back. But now it was all mixed up with the slimy twisting nausea in his gut.

"You don't gotta say it right now." Dean slid his hand under Castiel's shirt and dragged his thumb over one of Castiel's nipples. "Right now I just wanna hear you tell me to fuck that tight hole of yours again."

Castiel closed his eyes and shivered. It had already happened twice today. What did it matter if it happened again? He deserved it after all.

"Fuck my tight hole." Castiel repeated.

"Fuck. Yes, _sir."_ Dean moaned against Castiel's neck. He worked Castiel's jeans open and pulled out his soft cock. "Gonna make you come—"

A car horn blared as it whipped past them. Dean jumped away and tensed, ready for a fight. He let out a giddy laugh when he realized it was only a disapproving fellow driver.

"Okay, maybe we should hit the pause button on that." Dean reached over to tuck Castiel back into his pants. "Don't wanna be interrupted by a bunch of prudes." He grinned at Castiel and shifted the car back into drive. "You know, I've still got that vibrator." He waggled his eyebrows at Castiel then turned his attention to the road.

Castiel sunk into the seat and let his head fall back. He wished his stomach would just get it over with and throw up.

Dean kept to his plan to drive to Colorado. It didn't stop him from reaching over to run his hands up and down Castiel's leg or pressing against him when they stopped to eat. Castiel tried to ask for the pills again but Dean had looked at him sadly and said no.

When they stopped for the night Dean was quick to undress him and lay him out on the bed. He ran his hands and lips over Castiel, mapping out the scars he had left behind. It wasn't long before he had pushed three fingers into Castiel's ass and was sucking on Castiel's cock.

Dean sucked and licked at his cock for half an hour before finally sitting up and frowning down at it. Castiel's cock laid limp against his stomach. Dean reached out and gently dragged his fingertips over it. Castiel shivered at the touch, the nauseous feeling rolled through him again.

"I'm gonna get the vibrator out." Dean said, still frowning.

Castiel watched him roll off the bed and go to his bag. Dean rummaged through his things until he found the vibrating plug and the remote. He came back to the bed and picked up the lube. He quickly slicked up the plug and settled himself back between Castiel's legs. He slotted his free hand under one of Castiel's legs and pushed it up. He bit his lip as he started working the plug into Castiel.

Castiel let out a soft gasp and gripped the sheets when Dean turned the vibrator on. Muted pleasure crept along his spine. His cock twitched on his stomach but wouldn't fill and harden.

Dean's eyebrows knitted together. He crawled over Castiel, palming his still soft cock. He leaned down to kiss him. Castiel closed his eyes and opened his mouth, letting Dean in. Dean nibbled at his lips and licked into his mouth. Castiel could feel him frown against his lips.

"I see you've worked out the marital problems."

Dean jerked away from Castiel at the sound of Crowley's voice. His eyes turned black. His lips pulled into a snarl. "I told you, _no interruptions._ Fuck off."

"If you really didn't want any interruptions you'd do a better job at hiding." Crowley retorted. "Instead of frequenting..." His eyes flicked around the cheap motel room, casting disdain everywhere he looked. "Fine establishments such as this."

"What the fuck do you want?" Dean growled. He grabbed the remote to the vibrating plug, muttering to himself. "I swear this thing is cursed." He turned it off then slid off the bed. He pulled the blanket over Castiel then turned back to glare at Crowley. " _Well?"_

"It's about..." Crowley glanced down at Castiel then back up at Dean. "A matter we discussed recently."

Dean stiffened. He strode across the room and took the handcuffs from his bag. He went back to Castiel. He handcuffed Castiel to the bed then leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I gotta talk to Crowley about some...business stuff." He smoothed back the hair from Castiel's face. "Okay? I won't be long."

Castiel nodded. Dean smiled and pat his cheek before turning away and quickly getting dressed. Crowley and Dean disappeared out the motel door in less than a minute, leaving Castiel alone to stare at the ceiling.

He wished Dean had given him those pills again. He wished he wasn't so pathetic that he wanted them. He wished he had never fallen. He wished he could have saved Dean.

He wished _Dean_ would save him.

Castiel rolled onto his side. The plug pinched at the skin around his hole. He grabbed the thin motel pillow and curled around it. A sob wracked his chest. He couldn't save Dean. He couldn't save himself. No one would ever come to save either of them. This was how he'd spend the rest of his human life; being punished for all the innocent people he had gotten killed. And when he died Dean would have his soul. He snorted against the pillow. A few stray tears rolled down his cheeks and dried up. He'd deserve it, whatever Dean did to his soul. He'd made so many mistakes as an angel; committed atrocities that would put most humans to shame. How had he ever deluded himself into thinking he didn't deserve Hell?

He deserved it all.

The soft click of the door opening made him stretch out and roll back over. He knew Dean wouldn't want to wait.

His eyes went wide. His breath hitched.

Sam was across the room in four quick strides. His eyes flicked over Castiel and zeroed in on the handcuff attaching him to the bed. He pulled a small tool from his jacket and set to work unlocking the handcuff. "We don't have long. Crowley said ten minutes before Dean either figures us out or tries to stab him."

"W-what?" Castiel stared at Sam. He couldn't be real. No one was coming to save him. He didn't deserve to be saved.

"Turns out if Crowley is desperate enough he'll cut a deal, no strings attached." Sam said, working the tool in the lock. "He caved a couple days ago and gave up Dean."

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut then blinked them open. Sam didn't disappear.

He lurched off the bed and dragged Sam into a one-armed hug. A harsh broken sob ripped out of him. He buried his face in the crook of Sam's neck and cried. He didn't deserve this. He pressed closer to Sam and cried harder.

Sam wrapped his arms around him and squeezed back. "Hey, hey, I know. Just hold on."  He gently untangled himself from Castiel and went back to work on the handcuff. "Gotta get out of here first."

Castiel nodded through the tears. He didn't deserve to be saved but Sam was going to do it anyway. Tremors raced through him. He didn't deserve this. He sucked in a trembling breath and wiped at his eyes with shaking hands. Everything inside him felt like it was falling apart. He didn't know what to do. He tugged the blanket around him and shivered. It was too much. He didn't deserve this. He knew he didn't deserve this. Why would Sam bother to try and save him? His tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips. Sam had to know all those people had died and that it was his fault. Why would—

Castiel's eyes flicked up at movement behind Sam. By the time his mind had registered that it was Dean standing in the doorway Dean had already raised his gun and fired.

Sam lurched sideways and slumped against the wall.

"Sam!" Castiel scrambled off the bed, the handcuff bringing him up short.

"I'm okay, Cas." Sam pressed a hand to his arm. Blood seeped between his fingers.

Dean stalked across the room and stopped in front of Sam. "What part of _**no**_ didn't you understand?" Dean snarled. His eyes were as black as tar. "I don't want to be cured and you can't have him, Sam."

Sam leaned back against the wall and got his feet under him. He pushed himself up, still pressing his hand to the bloody wound on his arm. "You're sick, Dean. You're in so deep and dark you can't even tell if you've hit bottom. Let us help you."

" _That_ isn't helping me." Dean motioned to the lock picking tool on the floor. "That's stealing what's mine." He levelled the gun at Sam. The sulphur smell of a demon started filling the room.

Castiel's breath caught in his throat. "Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes. He kept the gun on Sam. "What? Going to tell me you weren't really going to leave again? Like I'm gonna fuckin' believe _that."_

Castiel shrunk back. Dean stared at him; eyes two icy black voids. Castiel watched as Dean's finger tightened on the trigger. His heart launched into his throat as panic squeezed his chest. " _I'll say it! I'll say it if we can just go!"_

"What?" Dean narrowed his eyes at him.

"I- I'll tell you." Castiel said, voice trembling. His whole body shook with fear. "B-but not if you d-do this. I w-won't ever be able t-to say it if you do this."

Dean's chest heaved with anger. His lips pulled back in a snarl. An explosive animal sound of rage erupted out of his throat. He threw his hands up and swore. He kicked at the bed and punched a hole through the wall.

" _Fuck!"_ Dean snarled, punching a second hole through the wall. "You had better not be ly—"

Sam hurled himself at Dean, grabbing for the gun. Dean growled. He swung around and punched Sam in the face. Sam slumped to the ground and didn't move. Dean kicked him in the side.

"Dean!" Castiel grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away from Sam. Dean spun around and shoved the gun into his chest. Castiel froze.

Dean stared at him, eyes still black as night. "What? You don't like it when the person you love points a gun at you?" Dean asked, disgusted. "Didn't ever think about that when you were doing it to me?"

Castiel let go of his grip on Dean's arm. He backed up, crawling onto the bed. He made himself as small as possible. "...Dean...can we...can we just go? ...please?"

Dean stared at him. The seconds dragged on. Dean glanced down at Sam. He looked back up at Castiel. He licked his lips. He turned on his heel and stomped out of the room. Castiel stared at the empty spot Dean had occupied, confused until he heard the sound of the neighbouring door being kicked in. There were screams. Then there weren't any screams. Castiel closed his eyes and shivered. He tried not to let his mind understand what had happened.

Dean stomped back in covered in blood. He tossed his gun into his bag. He gathered up their things then unlocked the handcuff keeping Castiel chained to the bed. He grabbed Castiel's arm and dragged him from the room naked.

There were sirens in the distance.

Castiel looked over his shoulder as Dean pulled him forward. "What about Sam?"

" _What about him?"_ Dean snapped. He shoved Castiel against the car and pinned him to the side with his hips.

"The police are coming." Castiel said, shivering against the cool night air.

Dean shrugged. "He should have thought about that earlier." He yanked the car door open and shoved Castiel inside. He crouched down and pointed a finger into Castiel's face. "Don't pull any stupid stunts like last time."

"I won't." Castiel said.

Dean nodded and slammed the door in his face. Castiel sat back in the passenger seat and waited. Dean went around to the trunk and tossed their bags into the back. A moment later he was yanking the driver's door open and throwing himself into the car. He started the car and peeled out of the motel parking lot as the sirens got closer. Castiel grabbed onto the seat as Dean whipped around corners and broke speed limits.

He tried to stay as still and quiet as possible. He wasn't sure what Dean would do if he said or did something Dean didn't like. Even when Dean had been tormenting him, Dean had never been this angry.

Dean drove erratically at terrifying speeds for an hour before slamming the brakes hard enough to make Castiel lurch forward. He shifted the car into reverse and swung around. He shifted back then tore down a small gravel side road.

He slammed the brakes again a few minutes later. Castiel braced himself on the dashboard. Dean turned the car off without explaining where they were. He got out. Castiel watched him stalk around the front of the car. He jumped in fear when Dean pulled the passenger door open. He grabbed Castiel's arm and hauled him out. He pressed Castiel up against the rear door. Castiel's heart was slamming in his chest.

Dean looked him up and down before reaching down and grabbing Castiel's thighs. He heaved Castiel up and stepped between his legs. "Don't just lie there like you don't like it this time." He growled. He pushed at Castiel's legs until Castiel wrapped them around his waist. He leaned forward, pinning Castiel to the car with his hips. He reached under Castiel and pulled the plug out. "You need more lube?"

Castiel stared at him dumbly while his mind tried to catch up with what was happening. "Y-yes?"

"Jeans. Back pocket." Dean said, jostling Castiel as he pulled at his belt and undid his jeans.

Castiel hesitated. Dean shot a glare at him. Castiel flinched with fright. He leaned forward, pressing his chest to Dean's blood splattered shirt, and reached into Dean's back pocket. He pulled out a tiny foil packet of lube. Dean snatched it from him. He ripped it open and squeezed out the contents of the packet onto his hand. He reached under Castiel. Castiel could feel him slick up his cock. Dean grabbed his thighs and lifted him higher. Castiel grabbed onto his arms and squeezed his legs tighter around Dean's waist. Dean tilted his hips up. His cock brushed over Castiel's hole then slid in.

Castiel cut off a whimper of pain. He wasn't stretched enough for this. He grit his teeth and pressed his forehead against Dean's shoulder and tried to breathe through it. His nose filled with the scent of blood. His stomach lurched. Those people in the next room...

" _Cas."_ Dean said, sharply.

Castiel heaved in a breath. He wrapped his arms around Dean's neck and lifted his head up. He pressed a kiss to Dean's lips. Dean growled out his approval and shoved his tongue into Castiel's mouth. Castiel's stomach twisted up as nausea rolled through him. He could taste blood.

Dean broke the kiss. "Say it." He rocked his hips, slowly fucking into Castiel. "You said you'd say it."

Castiel blinked in confusion.

" _Say it."_ Dean growled. His eyes turned black again. He dug his fingers into Castiel's thighs. "Or were you lying about that too?"

Castiel felt his chest caving in with grief as he realized what Dean wanted. What he had told Dean he'd give him if he'd spare Sam.

"I love you." Castiel said. The words tasted like ash in his mouth.

Dean shivered. His eyes stayed black. "I love you too." He leaned in and kissed Castiel gently on the lips. "Love you so fucking much."

Castiel forced back the sobs that wanted out but couldn't stop the tears. Dean couldn't tell he was lying.

**Author's Note:**

> The quotes are from Dante's Divine Comedy and correlate with the opposing sin related to each virtue.
> 
> The book Sam gave Castiel (Scars on the Inside) is a fictional title. If you're interested to know the second book Sam was going to give Castiel but never gets a chance to was going to be a book about recovering from intimate partner rape. Sam knew what was what even if Castiel was in total denial about why he was suffering.


End file.
